


The Fire Within

by FC4



Series: The Phoenix Effect [1]
Category: Wizard101 (Video Game)
Genre: Drama & Romance, F/M, Mental Health Issues, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:54:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 48,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26276725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FC4/pseuds/FC4
Summary: First story of the series 'The Phoenix Effect.' A dark, dramatic tale exploring what happens when a Pyromancer loses control of his emotions, and how it changes him personally and magically; and changes his friendships as well. Nothing is left untouched by the wild fire. Rated M for adult themes and violence, and because sometimes, things just don't turn out pretty.
Series: The Phoenix Effect [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1909162
Kudos: 3





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Wizard101 or anything in this universe, outside of the personas of the OC's of this story. This is a gritty, dark version of the Wizard101 universe that does not shy from death, violence, drugs, and sex. There will be more of the first two and less of the last two, but they all exist in this mature story. This story was first featured on Fanfiction and has been updated from the original. Since I was updating anyways, I decided to bring it over here as well. Please enjoy!

**The Fire Within**

Prologue

* * *

_**The Daily Divination** _

Tuesday, June 1st, Year 2010 E.A. 

**MALISTAIRE DEFEATED; SPIRAL SAVED**

_Charles Windwaker_ – After ten grueling months of enduring the machinations of a madman, it was confirmed on Monday at 10:35 PM by Headmaster Merle Ambrose and Professor Cyrus Drake that the fugitive wizard Malistaire was killed in battle by a strike team of student wizards. According to the strike team report, the battle took place atop the central volcano of Dragonspyre, in the office of the headmaster of the once-esteemed academy. The unthinkable very nearly happened; Malistaire was in the midst of awakening the Titan when they arrived. If not for their unwavering bravery and incomparable magical skills, Wizard City –nay, the Spiral itself- would be overrun by the Dragon Titan’s armies by the end of the week.

Details are sparse as much of the battlefield reports are still classified by the Ravenwood administration. From what was made public, the strike team interrupted the awakening ritual by cutting off Malistaire’s magical founts, and Professor Drake attempted to reason with his twin brother through a memory-crystal mirage of Sylvia, whose death had driven Malistaire over the edge. “Unfortunately, he was farther gone than I had believed. He not only refused his late wife, but banished me as well,” stated Professor Drake. A fierce battle ensued, and in a moment of overwhelming irony, it was a student of Necromancy who dealt the killing blow. “I regrettably could not return to aid the students,” explained Professor Drake, “but they rose to the occasion and performed admirably.” High praise, to be sure.

For now, the six members of the strike team have been removed from the public –and press- to be allowed them time to recover from the ordeal, as ordered by Headmaster Ambrose. When we will be able to learn whom these heroic souls are, and the horrors they had to go through, is unclear, but Headmaster Ambrose has assured that, when the time is right, they will be returned to the public domain. Until such a time, the Spiral wishes wellness upon them, and a great festival is already being planned in their honor.

If any of our saviors are reading this article, allow me to be the first to say in print: Thank you.

* * *

**_The Ravenwood Bulletin_ **

Wednesday, June 16th, 2010 E.A.

**Who are the Saviors of the Spiral?**

_Boris Tallstaff_ – After weeks of waiting with baited breath, the time has finally come; the Saviors of the Spiral are revealed at last! You’ve read it here first, at the Ravenwood Bulletin! So, just who are these illustrious heroes who saved our school –and the Spiral- from certain destruction? Read on, fellow students, and know that deeper, juicier, exclusive interviews are certain to come!

**Talon Skullflame, Pyromancer, 6 th Year**

The 21-year-old son of Victor Skullstar and Anita Falmea Skullstar, Talon Skullflame is actually well-known on the Ravenwood campus, not in the least owing to his clownish demeanor. If anyone has stepped foot near the schools of Pyromancy or Theurgy, they have likely gotten a glimpse of this reputation’s creation. Always a source of mirth, Talon has a reputation for accidental self-combustion; some suspect it isn’t always accidental. Enflamed or not, Talon still stands out in a crowd with his tall frame topped by wildly curled red hair, so bright that rumors often spread that it is dyed purposely to match the colors of his school. Readers shouldn’t be surprised to find his name on the list of the strike team; despite his frequent fire hazards he has always been in the top rankings of his class. Colleagues will attest to his fierce sense of justice and virtue as well. And let’s not forget that one month into the war Talon was credited with the defeat of the dreaded Lord Nightshade right here in Wizard City, as a fifth-year student.

 **Fun Fact:** Talon breeds unicorns in his treehouse estate, a hobby started in his second year when he discovered a unicorn in his newly purchased cottage property.

 **Dirty Secret:** Victor Skullstar was an infamously dangerous Pyromaniac during his years at Ravenwood. Is Talon Skullflame next in line now that the war is over and his pyromantic outlet is gone?

**Rowan Skulldreamer, Necromancer, 6 th year**

At 21-years-old, Rowan Skulldreamer is the oldest of three daughters of Eliza Suncaller Stormsword. Contrary to custom, she takes her full last name from her father, Roderick Skulldreamer, given by her mother at birth to honor him as he tragically died shortly after. Her mother remarried and birthed her younger sisters with the wealthiest Human timber trader in Grizzleheim, Stag Stormsword. Many readers will likely not know of this young woman; despite being in a relationship with the unabashedly outgoing Talon Skullflame, Rowan is a social recluse of the highest order. It is known that Rowan purchased property in Marleybone during the war, but the public record was scrubbed. Such great secrecy! And yet, it makes sense for a powerful Necromancer to isolate herself; Malistaire’s actions have not engendered kindness towards the school of Necromancy, which already suffered from sordid public relations with the outer worlds before the war. Rowan is top of her class in Necromancy, more skilled than even some seventh-year and eighth-year wizards, few and powerful though they are. In a stroke of irony, it was she who struck the killing blow, delivering the Spiral from the dangers of the mad wizard.

 **Fun Fact:** Though she would never enter of her own volition, it is widely agreed that the richly-tanned, black-haired bombshell would win the Wizard City Beauty Pageant with ease. Lucky Talon.

 **Dirty Secret:** Rumors spread during the war that Rowan was personally mentored by then-Professor Malistaire Drake, and was his favorite student; possibly even his disciple or a sympathizer. Thankfully for the Spiral, Headmaster Ambrose took no stock in these rumors.

**Kane Darksword, Conjurer, 5 th Year**

The youngest child of Charles and Su-Ling Darksword, Kane (given name Kanukata, but please don’t call him that, for your safety) was the only child to show any proclivity for the magical arts. The 20-year-old Conjurer is a well-studied individual in the arts of war –magical and mundane- as he trained under Master Hinneko of the Water Dojo, a Bovine Samoorai, for years before attending Ravenwood. It is not up for debate that he is one of the favored of Professor Cyrus Drake’s classes; and of the ladies, thanks to his deep violet eyes and long, golden hair. And who can ignore that he has the build of an Aquilian god? In direct contradiction, however, he is a recluse who is more often found buried in tomes in the library than anywhere else –including his classes. When not flirting or studying, the Conjurer can be found in the arena, sharpening his battling skills with Duelmaster Diego. It’s hardly surprising Headmaster Ambrose chose this man to be a member of the strike team, despite being a fourth-year at the time the war began. 

**Fun Fact:** While no official record exists to verify, it is rumored amongst the wizards who fought in the war that Kane has the highest body count of them all. He doesn’t dispute it.

 **Dirty Secret:** On every world the war touched, a cursory investigation can find several females of varying species claiming to have slept with Kane; some even claim to bear fruit.

**Miguel Spellblade, Sorcerer, 5 th Year**

The 20-year-old son of Antonio and Maria Spellblade, Miguel was not actually born into a wizarding family, despite his father being a Sorcerer. Miguel is as Marleybonian a Human as they come, and was raised with the Canine culture and prejudices. He is notably distrusting of any magic not wielded by him, an unusual but not unwise trait amongst wizards. His father took up magic –and enrolled his son in Ravenwood- out of a belief that one day Marleybone would have need of wizards. How prophetic! Miguel is known by his classmates for being well-dressed and mild-mannered, rarely angered or troubled by the situations presented to him. Maybe that is why he is top of his class. And though he strikes a dashing figure in his beige and violet suits, ladies best stay away; he is spoken for by none other than Tasha Stormcaller, another strike team member!

 **Fun Fact:** Miguel has fenced with Duelmaster Diego since his first year, and has beaten him once and tied with him twice!

 **Dirty Secret:** It is rumored that he has been scouted out to work undercover for the Queen of Marleybone!

**Tasha Stormcaller, Thaumaturge, 4 th Year**

Possibly the most surprising member of this team, the 19-year-old Tasha Stormcaller is one of the fraternal twin daughters of Stag Stormsword and Eliza Suncaller Stormsword. Her inclusion is surprising because she has been consistently average in her class rankings, and is well-known for passive aggression and politeness. Classmates describe her as more interested in fashion and dinner parties than magic and war. There is speculation that she was involved in the strike team purely because of her sisters’ recommendations to Headmaster Ambrose, and her relationship with Miguel Spellblade. Given that she survived the battle with Malistaire, it is safe to say the war has done well for her skills.

 **Fun Fact:** Tasha rescues and cares for abandoned piggles in a castle she purchased solely for the purpose. She lives in the school dormitories.

 **Dirty Secret:** From researching Tasha, I don’t think she ever wanted to attend Ravenwood, let alone fight in the war. She sounds much more at home with getting married and settling down to raise a family.

**Alia Sunsword, Diviner, 4 th Year**

And lastly, we have the other twin, Alia. In contrast to her more full-figured sisters, Alia is as thin and lithe as a Wolf of Grizzleheim, and behaves like one too. Frisky and feisty, she is almost as likely to deck you as she is to flirt with you. And she is very, very flirty, apt at using what little feminine figure she has to woo any man that catches her eye. She has a nasty reputation amongst her female classmates, even though she claims to have never slept with someone’s boyfriend. It’s probably technically true, since she likely slept with them before they were dating other women. Setting that aside, she is also known for outbursts of anger and lightning, drawing thunderstorms to the square foot of space occupied by whoever earned her wrath. To claim she is unpopular would be both an understatement and a lie; it depends entirely on the gender of the person you ask. Her inclusion in this team is ultimately less surprising than Tasha’s though, because she consistently ranks higher than her twin sister in her class. And she is arguably the most war-like woman you’ll ever run into in Ravenwood.

 **Fun Fact:** Alia tried to minor in Pyromancy early in her first year at Ravenwood, but quickly found that harnessing the power of both her passion and her impulsiveness simultaneously was uncontrollably potent. Having changed to Theurgy, she has found the peaceful, disciplined teachings to be a great asset to controlling her Divination, and healing any damage from stray thunderbolts.

 **Dirty Secret:** Rumors have persisted for the better part of six months now that she is in a relationship with the heartthrob Kane Darksword, despite them never being seen in public together without the other members of the strike team. With their similar reputations for promiscuity, what future could such a relationship possibly have?

* * *

_**The Daily Divination** _

Sunday, August 29th, Year 2010 E.A.

**Dragonspyre to be Rebuilt, Says Ambrose**

_Charles Windwaker-_ Headmaster Merle Ambrose made a historic announcement last night at a press conference in the Fireglobe Theatre, hosted by Fire Elf Prince Alicane Swiftarrow. “Tonight I formally declare that after fifty years of occupation, Dragonspyre is freed of the Dragon Titan’s armies,” he announced to thunderous applause. “Thanks to the combined efforts of our student wizards and former soldiers of Dragonspyre, the last of the Titan’s soldiers has been removed. Justice and peace can finally be given to the poor souls slaughtered by the invaders, and their surviving family.”

It was fitting to make the announcement in the Fireglobe Theatre in Firecat Alley. Refugees fleeing the wrath of the Dragon Titan were resettled in the then much smaller district of Wizard City, as it most resembled the climate of their former volcanic home world. And while other worlds such as Mooshu and Marleybone willingly took in refugees as well, integrating them into their Human minority populations, Wizard City accepted the highest number, ballooning the population by several hundred and drawing Headmaster Ambrose’s critics out of the shadows. Luckily for Wizard City the Dragonsyprians were anything but a burden, proving to be highly resourceful and entrepreneurial. Two of the finest professors Ravenwood has ever employed are counted among their ranks; Cyrus and Malistaire Drake. (Say what you will of the late Malistaire, but do not forget that before his wife’s untimely death he was one of the most beloved and effective professors in the school.)

“In light of this wonderful news,” Ambrose added, “it has been decided upon by committee that Dragonspyre shall be rebuilt, the kingdom restored, and the people of Dragonspyre brought back to their homeland.” Who was chosen to lead this monumental task? Anita Falmea Skullstar, Secretary of the Prince of the Fire Elves and prominent in the minority Dragonspyrian political sphere, was chosen for the task. While there is some concern that her recovering Pyromaniac husband could be heavily involved, she assured reporters at the conference that he will be given his own minor project to manage, and will not directly assist her in the Dragonspyre Reconstruction Project.

Being in charge of the DRP will be a great boost to the Secretary’s political career, which is undoubtedly her reasoning for campaigning for the position. Unless she grossly mismanages the project or makes powerful enemies in the process, she will surely secure herself as headmistress of the rebuilt Dragonspyre Academy of Magical Warfare, one of the highest offices in the former kingdom. In light of the complete extinction of the royal bloodline of Dragonspyre in the attack, she could even make a case for starting a new dynastic bloodline of rulers.

When questioned as to why Professor Cyrus Drake was not leading the project, as he would definitely be a good fit for headmaster or king of the revived Dragonspyre, the Professor was characteristically blunt. “Who else will be able to raise the next class of buffoons into competent Conjurers? I cannot possible teach and oversee the DRP, and have no interest in overseeing an entire academy of students.” In regards to Anita’s capabilities? “I have complete confidence in her abilities, and will be delighted to see where she takes the future of the kingdom.”

* * *

_**The Daily Divination** _

Tuesday, November 22nd , Year 2011 E.A.

**Grendels of Grizzleheim Defeated by Saviors**

_Charles Windwaker-_ As other student wizard teams attacked The Coven to bring an end to their schemes to awaken the Frost Giant Titan, three well known heroes delved deep into the Nidavellir ruins beneath Grizzleheim. Their quest? To end the threat posed by the awakening of the ancient Grendel brothers, who were aroused by the Coven to distract Wizard City and Grizzleheim forces from their activities. Unfortunately for the Coven, Kane Darksword, Rowan Skulldreamer, and Alia Sunsword all volunteered to handle the Grendel threat themselves, freeing up other wizards to fight the Coven. While some were hesitant to let the three go alone to fight the brothers, they insisted. Being Saviors of the Spiral comes with a certain authority.

Each of them took on a single Grendel, with Alia fighting Ullik, Rowan fighting Grettir, and Kane taking on Jotun. They didn’t emerge from Nidavellir until the next sunset, to a chorus of cheers from the Bears. When asked about the battle, a bloody Kane remarked with a smirk “the bigger they are, the harder they fall.”

* * *

_**The Daily Divination** _

Saturday, January 19th, Year 2013 E.A.

**War-Time Lovers Tie the Knot!**

_Charles Windwaker-_ The Spiral’s darling couple, Miguel Spellblade and Tasha Stormcaller, tie the knot today in what is billed to be a gorgeous winter wonderland ceremony in the foothills of Northguard. Hosted and funded by King Valgard Goldenblade, no expense was spared as winter-kissed pines were planted to guide the eyes to the polished oak altar placed before the Great Hall, with the northern mountains creating a powerful backdrop. The whole of the Great Hall village is decorated as if Christmas has come again, and Professor Lydia Greyrose has ensured that the snow falls in an enchanting, romantic flurry.

For such a high-profile couple, there is of course a high-profile guest list. All the Ravenwood professors and Headmaster Merle Ambrose will be in attendance, as well as emissaries of the royal families of the Spiral. Leaks of the invitation list reveal such big names as Prince Charles of Marleybone, the Jade Champion of Mooshu, Sherlock Bones, and the newly instated Minister of Foreign Affairs for Dragonspyre, Anna Flamewright. For the event Northguard has been declared by the King of Grizzleheim as a neutral zone whose rules will be enforced strictly, demanding that political tensions be left at the Spiral Door on this special occasion. While acceptance of the declaration was begrudging by most, the King has the full support of Headmaster Ambrose, which all but ensures the edicts will be followed.

After the announcement of their engagement a year ago, Tasha and Miguel both have been repeatedly interviewed as to the couple’s plans. I had the chance to inquire again, curious if plans had change any. Miguel Spellblade still intends to begin his eighth year at Ravenwood later this year, which is a wise move for anyone studying the incredibly complicated art of Sorcery. Given the school’s required courses touch the domains of the other six schools it is such a rigorous, complex field of study that most Sorcerers carrying less than a 6-year Certificate of Achievement from any accredited academy are still considered unqualified for most professions that would have need of Sorcery. After his Completion of Studies he intends to join the Royal Expeditionary Force, which will most assuredly benefit from his talents.

The future Tasha Stormcaller Spellblade, however, has changed her plans and decided to declare her Completion of Studies at the end of this school term, walking at graduation with a Certificate of Achievement for six years of magical study. It is a common decision for students of Thaumaturgy -the easiest of the Elementals to study- to declare Completion of Studies at this point, and comes with no significant professional drawbacks even if Tasha wasn’t a Savior. With most jobs in the post-war economy requiring much less than six years of magical studies, she could take her certificate practically anywhere. For now, though, she is content to settle down after the end of term and manage the Spellblade Estate in Marleybone, which has grown considerably bigger thanks to her dowry.

Whatever their plans may be -changing or static, humble and simple or grandiose and complex- the Spiral will together as one wish well upon this amazing couple this day. They have done so much for the Spiral already, for wizards so young in their lives, and we all look forward to seeing what more amazing feats they can accomplish together as husband and wife.

* * *

_**The Ravenwood Bulletin** _

Monday, June 17th, Year 2013 E.A.

**Two Saviors Graduate, Intend to Continue Studies**

_Tasha Stormcaller Spellblade declares Completion of Studies_

_Boris Tallstaff-_ Today’s graduation ceremony will be a momentous occasion for the whole Spiral; our eldest Savior couple, Talon Skullflame and Rowan Skulldreamer, is graduating from magical understudies in Ravenwood School of Magic! It is expected to be a larger and more lavish affair than previous graduations, not only because two of the alumni are Saviors of the Spiral. The majority of their graduating class are heroes of the Necromancer’s War, all playing some part in the ultimate defeat of the late Malistaire Drake and his allies during their fifth year of studies. This is as much a festival of honor to their martial achievements as it is a ceremony to acknowledge their academic ones.

Many distinguished guests are on the list, including the Emperor Yoshihito of Mooshu and his Jade Champion, Queen Elizabeth of Marleybone, Sergeant Major Sylvester Quimby Talbot III of the Royal Expeditionary Force, Alhazred of the Order of the Fang, and Valgard Goldenblade the King of Grizzleheim. All of these incredibly powerful people owe a tremendous deal to all of these graduating wizards who saved their worlds from the hordes of the late Malistaire’s allies, or other enemies. All students of the Class of 2013 who took early Certificates of Achievement and cut their education short are expected to attend as well, to be formally honored beside their former colleagues as war heroes.

In addition, Tasha Stormcaller Spellblade, the recently hitched twin sister of the Saviors of the Spiral, has declared Completion of Studies in Thaumaturgy, minoring in Divination, after six years at Ravenwood. She finishes in 15th in her class, and yet will walk across that stage with more experience, more knowledge, more hard-won wisdom than any of her fellow classmates, as the majority of the Class of 2015 was barred from participating in the war she personally helped win. She intends to take this experience with her to her husband’s estate, where the cutthroat nobles of Marleybone will likely bite off more than they can chew.

So what is next for esteemed graduating class? Well, for the Exalted Pyromancer and Necromancer Saviors, at least, they intend to continue their studies at the post-graduate level, with grants from Ravenwood to fund their research. Rowan Skulldreamer is also going to be training under Professor Dworgyn for a future Necromancy Professorship. Expect to see them in their primary school classrooms as teaching assistants next semester, guiding the younger wizards of the next generation to greatness. Or in the case of Talon, to the hospital wing with severe burns.

For all the graduates and Early-Completionists of the Class of 2013, we at the Ravenwood Bulletin thank you for your brave service and sacrifice, and wish you all the luck in the Spiral in your coming pursuits. May Bartleby continue to watch over you all.

* * *

_**The Ravenwood Bulletin** _

Monday, November 12th, Year 2013 E.A.

**Kane Darksword Claims the Spiral Cup**

_Boris Tallstaff-_ In a stunning upset sure to be spoken of for years to come in the halls of all academies in the Spiral, eighth-year student and Savior of the Spiral Kane Darksword has taken the Spiral Cup in the Pigswick Tournament of Magic from long-reigning champion Randolf Spellshine, a Wysterian Swine. While Ravenwood has not participated in this widely panned tournament in years due to the rampant allegations of Pigswick cheating to win, Headmaster Ambrose decided that this year, with a Savior of the Spiral as our representative, Ravenwood had a chance.

Many likely remember the qualifying tournament in the Arena, a three-way extravaganza of memorable magical combat between the one seventh-year and two eighth-year student Saviors. The spectacular duel between Miguel Spellblade, Alia Sunsword, and Kane Darksword, however, was merely an appetizer in comparison to the heart-pounding thriller that was the final round of the Pigswick tournament. All spectators who aren’t from Pigswick agree: Randolf Spellshine cheated. He repeatedly casted high-level spells out of turn and back to back, and would regularly cast a shatter spell on Kane’s shields out of turn, ruining his defenses before striking again. All of which was unnoticed and unpunished by the corrupt referees of the match. The scene brought back painful memories for older students and spectators who were present the last time Ravenwood had bothered to participate in this sham tournament.

And yet, true to his legends, Kane held firm. He took the blows. He erected shields only when necessary to avoid the worst hits. And as a point of pride for the entire school, he never once cheated, obeying every rule of formal magical dueling. It was a sight to behold, as the Conjurer played his opponent like a puppeteer, actually turning the Swine’s own cheating ways against him. The result was a match that was almost lost, as the final round had the wizards crossing powerful spells to devastating effect. But in the end, Kane was left standing, and that Swine scurried off sniveling.

It is even more surprising considering this year’s tournament was beset by a wicked, ancient former inhabitant of Wysteria, Lord Bramble. The foul Treant had sought to overrun the whole of Wysteria in wild growth, and start a war between Pigswick and Ravenwood as cover for his plot. That alone should have distracted Kane enough to cost him the tournament, but he never faltered. Luckily for all, the other five Saviors of the Spiral were on the case, allowing Kane and the other contestants to keep focused on their matches. Their intervention allowed Kane to finish his preparations, and they recovered the Spiral Cup just in time for him to win the same trophy Headmaster Ambrose and the late Malistaire Drake had won before him.

There is no question now: Kane Darksword is the strongest wizard in the class of 2014!

* * *

_**The Ravenwood Bulletin** _

Monday, June 16th, Year 2014 E.A.

**Two More Saviors Graduate, Go to REF**

_Boris Tallstaff-_ The long awaited graduation of the remaining student wizards of the Necromancer War has finally arrived! Today’s ceremony will feature the Class of 2014, the youngest group of foot soldier wizards besides the twin-sister Saviors. Like the Class of 2013, this group boasts two Saviors of their own, the Conjurer Kane Darksword and Sorcerer Miguel Spellblade. In addition, though she does not declare Completion of Studies this year, Savior Alia Sunsword will be honored at this ceremony, as her Class of 2015 was predominately barred from participating in the war.

As with last year, many distinguished guests are on the list, including the Emperor Yoshihito of Mooshu and his Jade Champion, Queen Elizabeth of Marleybone, Sergeant Major Sylvester Quimby Talbot III of the Royal Expeditionary Force, Alhazred of the Order of the Fang, and Valgard Goldenblade the King of Grizzleheim. All of these incredibly powerful people owe a great deal to all of these graduating wizards who saved their worlds from the hordes of evil. All students of the Class of 2014 who took early Certificates of Achievement are expected to attend as well, to be formally honored beside their former colleagues as war heroes.

What will be next for our Exalted Conjurer and Sorcerer? Predictably, both wizards have been conscripted into the Royal Expeditionary Force of Marleybone, an organization they have had many dealings with over the course of the war. Kane intends to use his commission to pursue archeological studies in Krokotopia, a land that has fascinated him ever since the wizards of Ambrose’s Army liberated it from the tyranny of the resurrected Krokopatra in September of 2009 E.A. Miguel intends to use his commission solely to serve his Queen and country in whatever capacity the Royal Expeditionary Force requires.

As for the last of the Saviors, Alia Sunsword is expected to re-enter Ravenwood at the start of the fall term, to complete her eighth and final year of study in the school of Divination. What she will do afterward is currently unknown even by her, as she has made it plain in past interviews she has no particular ambition beyond the pursuit of greater magical prowess.

For all the graduates and Early-Completionists of the Class of 2014, we at the Ravenwood Bulletin thank you for your brave service and sacrifice, and wish you all the luck in the Spiral in your coming pursuits. May Bartleby continue to watch over you all.

* * *

_**The Daily Divination** _

Monday, August 4th , Year 2014 E.A.

**Ambrose Declares Committee to Formulate Memorial Holiday**

_Charles Windwaker-_ With the weight of memory on his shoulders, Headmaster of Ravenwood Merle Ambrose held a press conference in the Commons this morning to commemorate the first week of the Necromancer War. This first week of August is well remembered as the time when late Professor Sylvia Drake’s public funeral was held, and Malistaire was noted as absent. Days later, he would strike his first blow in a war that would rage for ten months across the Spiral, summoning the dreaded Lord Nightshade and bringing a host of Undead down upon the streets of Wizard City.

With this dreadful history in mind, Headmaster Ambrose had a moment of remembrance for those lives lost in that first month of war, before a fifth-year and two fourth-year students who would all later become Saviors of the Spiral defeated Lord Nightshade and ended the occupation of Wizard City. What followed was an unexpected announcement: a committee was to be created to begin planning for the first Memorial Day, a formal holiday dedicated to the memories of the lost lives and reverence of the warriors who fought for the Spiral. The date? The last Monday of May, the day the Saviors of the Spiral sent the late Malistaire to join his wife in the grave.

A fitting date to be sure, but what would the festivities entail? That is for the Memorial Day Committee to decide. We will update over the coming months as deliberations continue.


	2. The Fire Within

Talon Skullflame was an excitable, childish sort of fellow who never could stop seeking out fun, or control his impulsive behavior; the sort of guy who always seemed to stumble into trouble, or mess something up unintentionally. A cheerful, energetic Pyromancer with a branching interest in Theurgy, who once saw good in everything and everyone, even the worst people; the sort of man who kept anger under control through optimism, humor, and a touch of naivety.

Until tonight.

Tonight, Talon and his five ‘friends’ –Miguel Spellblade, Tasha Stormcaller, Alia Sunsword, Kane Darksword, and Rowan Skulldreamer- were staying over at the girls’ childhood home in Grizzleheim. The owner of the estate, a wealthy timber trader by the name of Stag Stormsword, was the father of the twins, Alia and Tasha. Their older sister’s father was Roderick Skulldreamer, but from what Talon could understand from Rowan’s storytelling, he died when she was born. Their mother, Eliza Suncaller, had eventually remarried and had the twins, but while the girls got used to Rowan’s uniqueness early on, Talon could tell that even now, Stag was not entirely comfortable around his Necromancer step-daughter.

Talon completely understood why; there was something unnatural about Rowan that made the Life energies within him uneasy. But he just couldn’t stay away from her, even when he wanted to. Since the day he met that mysterious girl and set his eyes on her latté tanned skin, raven black hair and gorgeous emerald eyes, he’d been in love. A furious, burning love that consumed him like the flames he claimed dominion over. An unrequited love, for there was just one problem with this tall, dark, and beautiful creature.

She was undead.

According to Rowan, she had technically never even been born, therefore had never even lived. She was a stillbirth, taken by Death himself before she could even take her first breath. Her father was a powerful Necromancer and –unwilling to let go of his first child so easily- had struck a deal with Death; his soul for her life. Death agreed, of course, but as was typical of such stories, her father had not been specific enough in their agreement. Death did revive Rowan, true, but not to full life. Instead she had become a sort of perfect undead, a being of death that would grow and mature like any child, never rotting or showing her lack of life in any physical manifestation. She didn’t need to eat, sleep, or even breathe, and only did so to ease those around her. Ectoplasm ran through her veins, not blood, and her skin was like ice. Upon reaching maturity, she stopped aging, would never die of natural causes, and be eternally beautiful.

Of course, when Talon first learned of her ‘condition’, it set his nerves on edge. But she was a good friend by then, and they had fought together against Malistaire’s forces in many a battle. He felt he could get past that, somehow, and love her still. And while it still occasionally bothered him, he had managed to put that little problem aside.

But this… no, there was no getting past this. Not a second time.

The first time had been different. A sort of boyfriend-swap between the two sisters, Alia taking Talon and Rowan taking Kane, for reasons only the girls knew. At the time, Talon went through with it for only two reasons, and two reasons alone; Alia had him tied to a bed, and Rowan had agreed to it. But it still hadn’t sat well in his heart. He had assumed that was the first –and only- time such a swap would occur, so devotedly avoided Alia’s advances afterward.

Foolishly, he had assumed Rowan and Kane had done so as well. But as he walked down the hall towards the room graciously provided by Rowan’s parents during the night he passed by Rowan’s old room, and heard a soft, distinctive sound. Until he had heard that sound, his world had been simple, a happy world where good always won.

 _How could she do this to me?!_ He wondered as he heard them, anger flickering up inside him, licking at the once strong core of hope and trust he had held towards his two friends. He worked so hard to show her that she was more than an emotionless husk of dead flesh, to show her joy and love and compassion, prove to her that she was more beautiful than her undead status implied, and this was how she repaid him!

Talon’s anger took control, but not overwhelmed him; not yet. He forced himself to concentrate, to not barge in and make a scene. That would be the foolish thing to do, and his foolishness caused this. If he hadn’t been so naïve, he would have known, would have seen the signs, and could have done something. But now…

Now he was going to make them pay, little by little. He was going to fill them with regret for what they had done to him. And it would start with a warning; simple, plain, and everlasting.

With a finger glowing orange with heat, Talon carefully touched the wooden door to Rowan’s room, and proceeded to write upon its surface. He concentrated hard on ignoring the noises coming from the other side, focusing instead on his work.

In just a few short minutes, he was done, and stepped back to inspect his work with a grim satisfaction that was unusual for the Pyromancer. Pleased with his message, he turned away, but not to his room. Rather, he headed back the way he came, and then left the house through the back door silently, walking with quiet determination through the gardens.

Eliza was a Marleybonian woman, and made a point of bringing some culture to the untamed wilds of Grizzleheim. To that end, the estate looked like a piece of Marleybone dropped into the heart of a frigid pine forest; filled with roses and daffodils, lilies and gardenias, and many more, the majority of which were kept alive through enchantment. Talon ignored the beautiful late night scene around him, and only stopped to look back when he reached the back of the grounds. A few lights were on, but from this distance, he could not tell if his work was discovered.

Turning back to the wilds, Talon’s shoulder blades began to burn, tongues of fire growing out of his back. The twin gouts of flame expanded before Talon crouched and then launched himself into the air. With a single powerful beat, the flames withered away, leaving fiery orange scales in their wake. Hovering for only a moment, Talon beat his draconic wings again, ascending over the estate walls and into the forest beyond.

Since he knew they would come looking for him, Talon made sure to leave scorch marks intermittently throughout the forest, a false trail to keep them busy. He wanted to be alone for awhile, preferably a long while. After an hour or so of travel, he hovered in place, careful not to touch the ground, and uttered a single word. In a flash of fire he was gone, retreating to his own tree house refuge for the solitude he so desired.

Eventually they would find the message. And Talon made sure they would not quickly forget it, either, for with a precision more careful than he had ever been in his life, he had scorched the surface of that door with two words. The scorching was not deep in the wood, but he made sure that it was deep enough that scrapping the charred layer off would result in the slightest of indents in the wood. Indents that, in the right light at the right angles, would reveal those two words for as long as that door remained in that house.

**I KNOW**


	3. One Week Later

Five wizards sat in a restaurant in Wizard City, sharing an appetizer while they waited for their food to come. They all wore plain robes in the colors of their primary schools of magic, having no need to wear fancy robes or battledress in public these days. Malistaire had been defeated nearly five years ago, and there were new students tackling new threats in the Spiral. While still remembered and honored, these five wizards had fallen out of the public eye rapidly, rarely encountering paparazzi nowadays. It was a fact they greatly enjoyed.

But what should have been a relaxing, laughter-filled lunch was weighed down by a proverbial Helephant in the room, and none of their eyes met. Silence was only defeated by the crunch of tortilla chips being eaten by one of the party. It wasn’t long before even Kane grew uneasy, violet eyes glancing towards Miguel at intervals. Miguel’s own brown eyes were fixed on Kane with disgust. It wasn’t long before his temper got the better of him.

“Will you stop staring at me already?” Kane snapped, grabbing another chip. “What’s gotten into you?”

“I am fairly certain you know why I stare at you, traidor,” Miguel softly rebuked, his arms remaining folded over his chest and his dark complexion only serving to darken his expression.

“And if it is the reason I think it is, then you have no reason to be staring at me like that, Alia,” Rowan remarked while gazing at the chips, but Alia just huffed, brown eyes and frowning visage disagreeing with her sister’s claim.

“She has every reason to be staring at you like that, Rowan, and you know it,” Tasha suddenly snapped, looking possibly more furious than Alia. That fact alone made her more frightening to Kane right now than her husband beside her. “And here we thought Talon knew already, or you four had made some sort of… arrangement,” she cringed with disgust, “which in itself would be terribly inappropriate.”

“But preferable to una aventura amorosa,” Miguel added, “which is wrong even by your standards, amigo.”

“Look, it’s not an affair!” Kane shouted back, making a couple of other patrons to the restaurant look in their direction. He swiftly lowered his voice. “It’s just a no-strings-attached deal, alright? If Talon can’t handle that, that’s his problem, not mine.”

“Do you even care that he has been absent for a week since we visited Grizzleheim?” Miguel asked, “Even a little?”

“Nope!” Kane replied without hesitation. “In fact, I’m rather enjoying being able to study my work uninterrupted. Until you two,” he pointed at Tasha and Miguel, “pulled me out for this ridiculous luncheon discussion.”

“Well I am, at least, a little worried,” Rowan admitted, frowning deeply. “It isn’t like him to play hermit.”

“Nice to know you have a semblance of a heart,” Alia snorted, looking out the window to the shoppers on the street, not at her sisters or friends. From her tone, it was obvious it was meant to insult. Normally, this would have solicited a prompt chide from Tasha; it didn’t.

“That was rather rude of you, Alia, I’m hurt,” Rowan stated with the thinnest of sarcastic layers. She could tell that this time, Alia meant it.

“Join the club,” Alia snarled back, not once looking at her older sibling. Sparks crackled over her robe.

“It was also rude of you, Rowan, to not inform Talon of this,” Tasha responded, quelling any sort of argument between her sisters. She put a hand on Alia’s arm, stroking it gently in a comforting gesture. “You should have discussed it with him, after the first time.”

“We did discuss it, in a long and drawn out argument in which I told him I loved him but wasn’t willing to marry him because I don’t feel that sort of commitment is right for me,” Rowan explained harshly.

“Doesn’t mean you had the right to sleep with his friend behind his back,” Miguel reasoned, looking at Rowan now, “cometido matrimonial, perhaps not, but you were still a couple.”

Rowan put her head in her hands, sighing with frustration. _How did everything go so wrong so quickly?_ This lunch was quickly degenerating into a talk with her mother, and she already had dealt with that.

“We were never friends,” Kane growled from the back of his throat, “I’ve been wanting to be rid of that ridiculous pyromaniac clown since he met me.”

“And that makes it better **how** _?_ ” Miguel stressed, unfolding his arms to point a finger straight into Kane’s face. “And have you forgotten how many times Talon has been vital in our fight with Malistaire? How many times he has saved each and every person at this table from muerte?” Rowan raised an eyebrow. “Or major injury?” He added.

Kane frowned, groaned, and lowered his head, muttering that he had tried, hard, to forget the oaf’s fleeting bouts of usefulness. Rowan shook her head.

“The way I see things, amigo, Talon is the bueno amigo you never asked for, and you ought to be thankful to have,” Miguel concluded.

“Well, I see things differently, Miguel, but thanks for your unsolicited insight,” Kane retorted, growing even more annoyed with every word those two do-gooders spoke. He rose from his seat just as the food was arriving, having not really been interested in eating with them to begin with. “Now if you will excuse me, I have some really intriguing texts on the mythical history of Avalon to read. As to Talon, I’m sure he’ll get over it in a few more days, and frankly I don’t care. But if any of you want to go check up on him, be my guest.”

Without another word the Conjurer left, slamming the restaurant door behind him. The moment he was outside, he burst into a shower of gold and blue sparks and disappeared.

“I… should probably take that as my cue to leave as well,” Rowan stated, and Tasha and Miguel narrowed their eyes at this. The waiter set the food on the table, pausing at hers and Kane’s plates. “Just give them to someone else, my treat,” she told the waiter, before pulling out some coins. “Here’s our tab,” she said without thinking, placing the gold on the table. The others were silent as she left.

When she was outside she finally realized that the ‘here’s our tab’ probably didn’t sound any better in her sister’s eyes. _Way to prove you aren’t a couple_ , she thought, before disappearing as well in a shadowy mist.

“Meals were a lot more fun with Talon around…” Tasha sighed, picking up her fork.

* * *

Unlike Kane, who went straight home, Rowan instead teleported to Talon’s Spiral Door, intent on checking up on him and possibly try to patch things between them. Tasha and Miguel were right, and she did feel bad about it. But probably not as bad as they thought she should. And she was honestly worried about Talon. It wasn’t like him to be gone for so long without telling someone. And he rarely traveled alone. _I hope he hasn’t hurt himself…_

When she arrived at the Spiral Door of his tree house sanctuary, her fears were not eased. While the sanctuary was surrounded by an earthen wall, it did end on each side of a cobble pathway leading to the Spiral Door. But that pathway was currently blocked by a towering, thick wall of vines, whose leaves obscured the view of the other side. However, she could see a column of smoke rising from the center of the island sanctuary, and that worried her. He loved his tree house and his gardens more than anything in the Spiral. Something had to be seriously wrong for him to be burning them.

She reached out to touch the vines, hoping to make them recede with her Death magic and clear the way. The leaves began to wither, but she went no further as a vine suddenly lashed out, whipping her across the wrist.

“Oww!” Rowan exclaimed, stepping back. Some of the vines parted, making a small hole at the base of the wall of maybe two feet tall, and a miniature unicorn walked through.

Until now, Rowan never could have claimed to have seen a unicorn glare at someone. But this miniature unicorn, likely the stallion of Talon’s herd, was very much not pleased with her presence, and lowered his horn, stamping his little hooves on the ground.

“Alright, fine!” Rowan shouted through the vines, “If that’s the way you want to be, then good riddance!” She promptly became engulfed in smog and disappeared.


	4. Dear Diary

When they had gotten married, Tasha had agreed to do the proper thing and move into Miguel’s place. It was a very nice place, to be sure. A large estate inherited from the Sorcerer’s late father during the time of the Necromancer War, it had three floors, a basement, and a lovely canal view. It even had a greenhouse which Miguel relinquished to her for her gardening hobby.

But it wasn’t the same. Sometimes, at times like these days, she missed her giant Winter Wind palace, with its cold stone walls and large, open rooms; and her piggles. Miguel had put his foot down on the piggle issue, saying a gentleman never let any kind of pig into his house. She had a feeling he just didn’t like them, but they compromised quickly that they could remain in her palace. Her palace had become a bit of a summer home for the aristocratic couple, a little getaway from the upper nobility when either of them needed it. From the way things were progressing with her friends, they might soon need it.

Right now, though, they were sitting by the fireplace on the second floor of the manor, Miguel in an armchair and Tasha on the sofa. A small wooden golem, about waist height, came up to them holding the evening news and a book. He handed the newspaper to Miguel.

“Gracias, señor Winston,” Miguel thanked the golem, taking the paper and proceeding to read. With a bow Winston moved to Tasha, handing her the book.

“Thanks, Winston,” She said, smiling and taking the little book from him. It was her diary. The little wooden butler, despite having no eyes or ears or even brain, always knew what time during the day Tasha liked to write in her diary. “I think I will write in it today, so I might be awhile.” She didn’t always write in her diary, so Winston liked to wait for her to decide, in case he needed to put it back for her.

Tasha really liked Winston; for such a plain wooden thing, he had a lot of personality and life. It was just one of a few signs for Tasha that Kane wasn’t as heartless as he seemed. The little golem had been a wedding present for them that Kane had carved and enchanted himself, creating a permanent version of a minion he tended to summon in battle. When Miguel had inquired as to why Kane was giving such a gift, the conjurer had replied that since he had a woman now, he needed all the help he could get. Alia and Rowan had laughed; she hadn’t found it so funny. But then Talon had asked why he didn’t get one for his birthday, and Kane snapped about him likely burning it on accident on the first day. Everyone had laughed at that.

_Talon…_

Tasha really did miss the pyromancer, even though she tended to keep her distance from him, physically and emotionally. He had always been so cheery and lively, loosening up the serious air that everyone else in the group seemed unable to escape. Sighing, Tasha flipped through her diary to the next blank page, picking up a quill and dipping it in the ink thoughtfully provided by Winston.

Tasha had been in the habit of writing in a diary at least once a week since she was a girl. Whereas many of her older entries had fond childhood memories and daydreams about Miguel, lately her diary entries had been anything but cheery. This one was no different.

> _Dear Diary,_
> 
> _Today was the luncheon with my sisters, Kane, and Miguel. It didn’t go as well as I’d hoped. Alia has been stewing over the situation for the last week though she promised not to. She said something mean about Rowan’s lacking a heart and I just let her! I mean, I know Alia is hurting but it doesn’t do any good to throw Rowan’s condition in her face. It’s not like Rowan can help what she is._
> 
> _But at the same time, I really do feel that she and Kane ought to have been more open about what they were doing. If Alia and Talon had known sooner, perhaps this could’ve been avoided. Or perhaps not. Ugh, I just don’t know whose side I’m supposed to be on here. They’re both my sisters; how am I supposed to choose?!_
> 
> _And, while it seems a little off topic, I wonder if maybe Rowan and Kane have drawn closer because of the trouble. They left almost simultaneously today and Rowan paid for both of their lunches. A few days ago I heard them refer to something that happened in Zafaria recently, so I suppose they’re traveling together now too. Seems like a silly thing to do right now, go traveling. As if that will solve anything, the problems are still here when you get back._

She laid down her pen for a moment and sighed. Miguel looked up from his evening newspaper.

“Something bothering you, Tasha,” he questioned.

“Just pondering over things,” she answered. “I just want everyone happy again.”

Miguel laid the paper aside and patted his lap. Tasha left the settee, cuddled against him and nuzzled his neck.

“I’m afraid, mi amor, that I can only make one person happy,” Miguel said, “and tonight, that’s you.”

Tasha smiled and closed her eyes. “I think I like the sound of that.”


	5. Another Week Passes

“I didn’t know you took up gardening, Kane,” Rowan remarked as she walked through his study, seeing all the magical gardening books he had on the central tables. It was –probably literally- the whole Ravenwood library’s section on magical gardening practices.

“I haven’t,” he grumbled, throwing another book on the table before him. “Useless, useless, and already tried that ," he muttered as he tossed more books aside. 

She was visiting him in what was becoming a regular meet up, where she repeatedly tried to talk with Kane about the ‘Talon problem’ and he repeatedly refused to talk about it, claiming to be happy with the result. He didn’t even sound surprised about Talon possibly burning his house to the ground. His exact response the last time she had brought it up was: “Surprised it hasn’t happened sooner.”

She was beginning to be even happier that they kept an emotionally detached relationship, because he was proving to be even more heartless about the situation than she thought possible, even for her. With the way he was behaving, she would have been ashamed to call him her boyfriend.

“So, what’s with all the books then?” Rowan asked, picking up ‘Removing Common Magical Pests’ and flipping through the pages. “Have a locust problem?”

“Did you not notice anything **different** when you were on the surface?” Kane asked. Rowan shrugged.

“Nope. Truthfully I stopped paying attention to your little pet project up there when you stopped finding mummies,” she explained, placing the book back.

“Fair enough,” Kane sighed. His ‘pet project’ was an archeological dig he had been going at for years, excavating ruins that were situated around the desert oasis beneath which his villa existed. The house itself was an underground villa of several bridge-connected rooms overseen by a giant Judgment statue from which water fell. Long ago, it had been a meeting place for the Order of the Fang, and one of their tombs was situated in the sands above.

“Let me show you the problem, then,” Kane decided, getting up and leading Rowan up to the surface. Once he showcased it, Rowan finally noticed; right in the center of his oasis was a firebush, surrounded by nothing but sand and completely inappropriate for a desert environment.

“Oh,” Rowan wasn’t sure what to say, staring at the bush. “Um… how did that get here?”

“I have no idea, but it came with a note from our favorite new recluse,” Kane muttered, passing her a piece of bark the size of an average page of parchment. It was rather thick bark, looking rather familiar. Also familiar was the way the words were etched into the wood by scorching, although the very fine script suggested he hadn’t used his finger this time.

> _Kane,_
> 
> _I realize now that you never actually wanted me around, so refusing to acknowledge your existence is probably what you want me to do. Therefore, I’ve left you a parting gift, ‘friend’. Something to remember me by, forever. I’m sure you’ll never forget me._
> 
> _Sincerely,_
> 
> _Your First Friend_

As Rowan was reading the inscription, Kane’s Spiral Door opened, revealing Alia in purple and green student robes. She closed the door behind her gently, before slowly making her way over to the duo. Kane wanted to snap something about her showing up, but the look on her face made him bite his tongue. She looked apologetic, and honestly, too cute for any man to be mad at for no reason. He decided to hold back until she gave him a reason, which would likely happen soon enough.

“Yes, Alia?” He finally asked, as she seemed to be waiting for them to speak.

“I… um,” Alia began, wringing her hands. “I’ve thought about all… **this** , and I’ve decided to forgive you two. I was a bit too hasty, perhaps, on being angry. You were right, Rowan, I don’t have much room to be angry.” Kane sighed with relief. At least someone was going to stop bothering him about this whole mess. “But on one condition!” Alia raised a finger and looked a Kane, biting her lip.

“Do you still love me?”

“Alia,” Kane sighed, rubbing his forehead. “I don’t **love** anybody. Got that?” When her face darkened, Kane quickly reacted to try and fix his error and stave off electrocution. He wasn’t in the mood for that right now. “But I do like you quite a lot.”

“Good enough,” Alia shrugged, rapidly closing the distance between them and pulling Kane into a kiss. It caught him off guard, but he didn’t necessarily mind. It was hard to argue with a beautiful girl wanting to distract you from your problems through physical pleasures. 

“What’s that?” Alia asked when she finally allowed Kane to inhale something other than her tongue, looking over her shoulder at the bark in Rowan’s hand. Until then, Rowan had been watching Alia make out with Kane with some amusement.

“A note from ‘our favorite new recluse’, as Kane so eloquently put it,” Rowan explained, handing it over. Alia looked it over, and then looked at the firebush.

“So, how is it ‘forever’ if the bush is just gonna die in this desert?” Alia asked, pointing at the shrub.

“It won’t,” Kane grunted.

“Won’t what?” Both girls asked.

“Die,” he clarified, moving over to some of his excavation equipment and picking up an axe. “Observe.” He approached the bush, poised himself for a mighty swing at the trunk of the plant, and proceeded to follow through.

The resulting explosion knocked all three of them into the sand a few feet away. When they got up, the firebush was still there, completely unharmed. Kane propped an arm on the axe, brushing sand off his ass.

“Observed,” Rowan proclaimed, dusting the sand out of her clothing.

“I cannot chop it down in any manner, for touching the bush causes it to explode. For three days I have tried using Death magic, Marleybonian pesticides, and a few of those anti-magical-plant gardening spells. Each time, the bush was fully grown back the following morning,” Kane explained, glaring at the glowing orange bush.

Alia looked at the bark note again, and nodded approvingly. “Not bad at all. No idea how he managed such a powerful magic, but… that is a dastardly payback right there. It’s like he took a page right out your playbook, Rowan,” she said, looking at her sister, who was not sharing the approving visage. “He keeps this up, I think I’m going to actually start liking him.”

Rowan was not enjoying this new behavior as much as her sister. Talon was not the kind of guy who held a grudge or sought revenge. And he certainly didn’t do something like this. This was too devious for the Talon she knew.

“Alia, I need you to go check up on Talon for me,” Rowan said. Alia looked confused. “I would myself, but I got chased out by a miniature unicorn last time.”

“Seriously?” Kane interrupted, one eyebrow raised and smirking mockingly.

“Yes, seriously. His unicorns are pretty ticked off right now,” Rowan replied with a glare at him. “And I remind you both that unicorn magic, even from miniature breeds, is potent enough Theurgical energy to do me serious harm.”

“Alright, I will,” Alia giggled, “If only to save you from the evil unicorns.”

* * *

When Alia arrived at Talon’s sanctuary, she found the entrance to be still covered in vines as her sister described. However, when she reached to touch them, they didn’t recede at all. Instead, one vine began to grow itself onto her hand. Quickly she applied her own Life magic, and the plant receded, followed by the whole wall parting open to allow her access. She cautiously stepped through, wishing briefly that she actually brought her sword wand, just in case Talon proved hostile.

And it was possible, considering the state of his sanctuary. It looked like most everything except for the central tree had been burned to the ground. The fountain in the courtyard was steaming, and the statues of various creatures of the magical schools were charred. His unicorn herd moved about the ashen forest with a depressed gait.

“Talon?” Alia called out, looking around the smoking cinders. The small pond and waterfall off to the right was boiling, and as she frowned at this, she heard a reptilian screech. She ducked in time to avoid a dive attack from a small black dragon with golden wings and horns. As it turned for another attack, Alia shouted.

“Talon, call off your dragon! It’s me, ALIA!”

“Dakota, stand down,” came a stern, strong voice, and Dakota –who Alia swore was once blue and orange- turned from her and glided towards a spot further down the path. As he approached shoulder height, a blaze sprung up from the ashes, and a fancifully robbed figure materialized in time for Dakota to land.

“Come to make fun of me, did you?” His voice was curt and abrupt, sounding more like Kane with a Talon accent.

“Talon?” Alia did a double take at the man standing a few yards ahead of her. She knew it was Talon –who else could it be- but he didn’t look like the Talon she knew. He had traded in his plain red and beige robes for an older raven-sage style he had worn long ago, whose crimson zigzag hems were trimmed with golden runic symbols. However, whereas before he wore a brown robe, this version was pitch-black, and the gems on his left shoulder and chest were a darker red than she recalled. The color went well with the iron feathers on his left shoulder, but blended in better with the charred earth around him.

To further surprise her, he wasn’t wearing one of his typical hats, but instead a hood that –if she weren’t a little shorter than he- obscured his eyes from view under a golden trim stripe, while the rest of the hood was pitch-black like his robe. As Alia was absorbing this new image for Talon, he raised his staff, pointing the dragon at the head towards Alia, the gem held in its claws gleaming with inner fire.

“Is there actually a **reason** for you being here?” Talon asked in her silence, sounding irate.

“Yes, actually, there is. I’m here to check on you, make sure you’re fine,” Alia replied quickly. “And you look quite fine, I might add. Love the new getup.” She flashed him a grin and a thumbs-up, to which he didn’t react. But it wasn’t just the new clothes that made Alia pause. It was Talon’s whole demeanor; how he carried himself and his attitude. He didn’t seem like that clumsy, awkward boy she’d been fighting beside against Malistaire. He seemed more confident, more aloof; more like Kane.

“We are worried about you though, Talon. We miss having you around,” she added when he didn’t respond. That made him smirk.

“I presume ‘we’ doesn’t include **them.** ” He said sternly, still smirking.

“Actually… it does include **one** of them,” Alia replied, knowing what he was meaning instantly. “Kane doesn’t appear to miss you at all, though, but I’m sure deep down he does.”

“No.”

“What?”

“No, he doesn’t. And neither does she,” Talon added, lowering his staff so the dragon head hovered over the ground. From beneath his hood, Alia could see his hazel eyes ablaze with an inner anger.

“Yes she does, Talon!” Alia snapped, getting a bit annoyed by his claim. “She’s said so, openly, in front of everybody. She is worried about you, Talon. And from the look of this place she has every right to be.” She motioned at the barren ashen wasteland of his once flourishing sanctuary.

“She lied.”

“Excuse me?” Alia growled, hoping she had heard him wrong. “Did I just hear you call my sister a **liar?** ”

“Yes, you did.”

“She didn’t lie, and I know it!” Alia yelled at him. The unicorns winced and Dakota hissed from Talon’s shoulder, while the pyromancer seemed… bemused. Several yards separated the two wizards, but neither was willing to close that gap.

“And I know that she did, Alia. She did lie, has lied, and will always lie. Because that is the only way she can be normal,” he said it softly, smoothly, without a hint of ire in his voice. As if he was reading a report on the electrical conductivity of different wand materials. Alia paused her fury, blinking.

“What the hell do you mean by that?” She asked after a moment.

“I mean that just like she has to eat, sleep and breathe around others to be considered normal, she has to fake emotions,” Talon explained matter-of-factly. “The last thing she’d want is to appear heartless to us mortals.”

Alia frowned, furrowed her brow, and growled softly. She didn’t like the direction Talon was taking with this train of thought, but then she remembered her ‘semblance of a heart’ jab a week ago. Frighteningly, he was making the smallest bit of sense.

“Alia,” Talon sighed deeply, like he was about to have to explain basic math to an adult, “Rowan is undead. The undead have no proper emotions, because they are lifeless souls stuck to a lifeless body. The emotional flare just isn’t there. Because of that, Rowan never truly loved me. She never **could** , only pretended to keep me happy.”

Alia chewed on his words for a moment, the Theurgist in her agreeing with his statements. It made a lot of sense. Within her, the impulsive spark of storm energy bolted to her sister’s defense. _No! This is my sister!_ The energy danced with agitation in her mind, decimating the offending thought and leaving an anxious urge to act.

“The signs were always there, Alia. I had just ignored them, naively, thinking that she was different. But she’s not. She never loved me, or you, or anybody. She only pretends, so she can be treated like she’s normal,” he was starting, slowly, to sound saddened by what he said. “So it’s only natural she would betray my love for her by choosing Kane. Why wouldn’t she? He’s as cold and heartless as she is, by choice, and he’s always been the better wizard. How could this bumbling _oaf,_ ” he spat the word out, quickly regaining his unnervingly confident, controlled poise, “possibly compete with the brilliant blonde Aquilian hero of the school?” There was a flash of rage in his voice when he said that, brief but very powerful.

Alia detected his anger, as her own welled up inside her. How dare he say that her sister didn’t love her! Gritting her teeth –a move which made her robe pulse with electrical energy- she straightened herself, her own brown eyes glittering with her storming rage.

“You know, Talon, you haven’t changed a bit,” She shot at him.

“How so?” He seemed intrigued by her statement and eager to hear an answer, eyes narrowing in anticipation.

“Before, you were a cute guy until you opened your mouth. Now, you are quite sexy with this new getup and confidence. And then you opened your mouth, and said some of the most horrible remarks towards my sister I have **ever** heard. You had better straighten yourself out, Talon, otherwise next time I might not be so nice,” her threat was obviously venomous, and without waiting for his answer, she engulfed herself in an orb of lightning, disturbing the ashes on the ground as it sparked out of existence.

“I have straightened myself out,” Talon told the air where she had stood; seeming not to care that she was gone. “And if you back up your threat, I’ll straighten you out too.”

He abruptly turned and walked up the wooden porch ramp to his tree house’s front door, one of the few things not yet burned. When he slammed it behind him it burst into flames.


	6. A Couple of Days Later

Two days after Rowan learned of Kane’s little ‘gift’ from Talon, she found a gift of her own on her front porch. It was another piece of bark, likely from the same tree. And Rowan realized why she got the sense of familiarity from it; it came from the large tree at the center of his sanctuary. The smell, the texture, and the shade of rich dark brown were all very familiar to her, as she had spent much of the last five years at Talon’s sanctuary. He had never been comfortable in her haunted mansion home, so the couple spent the majority of their time in his place.

Brief memories flashed through her mind. A concerned Talon enforcing a ‘no singing’ rule to his Theurgical house pets. Working with Talon to transform his basement into a den of darkness and morbidity just for her; a safe room to retreat into when the virile energies of his home and creatures became too much for her, but they still wanted to be close to each other. Splashing each other in the pond under the warm sun before letting Talon dry her with his steaming hands, as he kissed down her back and slowly removed her bikini top with his teeth…

Rowan blinked away sudden tears, the ectoplasm evaporating off her cheeks. The wetness snapped her from her daydreams, the past dissipating in her mind like the ectoplasm. Those were wonderful days, but they were gone now. She had ruined any chance of getting more days like those, so she’d best just move on.

Rowan inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly, finding the exercise as helpful for stilling her thoughts as it was for the living; possibly even more since breathing took even more focus from her to do properly. Looking down at her hand, she raised the bark slab to examine it. In the same fine script as the last bark note was another note, to her this time, once more carefully etched into the wood by fire.

> _Rowan,_
> 
> _I’ve been thinking about us, and realized something. You never deserved my love. I couldn’t think of anything you’d ever done for me that would make me love you as much as I did. Therefore, I can only conclude that it was lust, not love, and became love through my own foolish heart and its childish desire for the unattainable. Because, clearly, you are incapable of loving me. You manipulated my love for you by lying to me, making me feel I had a chance. I had thought you different, but you aren’t. You are just like every other vile atrocity of your art. Cold and heartless. Enjoy your loveless unlife without me, because I’ve grown wise to your games._
> 
> _Your ex-lover,_

Rather than signing it with his name, he had burned a fire symbol into the wood, a symbol which glowed orange with magical energy. She wasn’t quite sure if it was enchanted or not, but decided she should probably pay Kane another visit.

She found him in what passed for a kitchen in that man’s villa, having the most basic of cook stoves and a washtub instead of a sink. He was butchering a fish when she wandered in, the tail and head already in a basket on the floor beside him being licked at by a two-headed puppy.

When she showed Kane the bark note, he read it over briefly as she held it up. There was a touch of admiration on his face that irritated Rowan.

“Do you **agree** with him?” Rowan asked harshly.

“Which part?” Kane asked unflinchingly, looking it over again. “The beginning where he regales you with his idiocy and reveals how shallow and hopelessly romantic he was?” Kane motioned at that section with his butcher knife. “There, I agree with him. The part about you being cold and heartless like other undead? Well, he’s half right,” Kane admitted with a shrug.

“Clarify…” Rowan uttered the word with a cold, menacing gaze that seemed to carry the whisper across the distance between them. Kane shuddered momentarily.

“You are cold,” he explained, and Rowan’s entire visage collapsed into a frustrated sulk. “But not heartless. If you were, you wouldn’t be bothering me nearly as much about his little fit.”

There he went, being heartless himself once more concerning Talon’s current mental state. It had been nearly a month now, and Kane had yet to show an ounce of concern for his friend. Rowan had enough, and promptly smacked him in the head with the bark.

“Ow! What in the name of all things mythical did you do that for?!” He snapped, straightening up and whirling to face her, knife still in hand.

“Because I’m not the one he should be calling cold and heartless! You are!” She was raising her voice to a level higher than the scolding she had given the boys for taking on Lord Nightshade without her; and that had been comparable to a banshee wail. She held the bark up to his face, furious. “Three weeks, Kane! Three weeks he has been holed up in that tree, a tree he is peeling apart to burn notes on! A tree he loved more than me! He has walled himself off and prevented us from getting inside to talk to him! He’s writing passive-aggressive notes that are more aggressive than passive, in a handwriting I’ve only ever seen him use when concentrating hard on making his term papers **readable!** He is being as devious as **me** , and as mean as **you!** ” She jabbed him in the stomach with the bark. “And you don’t give a bloodbat’s vomit about his condition!” She screamed the last bit into his face, but he had stopped flinching from her anger after the first sentence.

His teeth were grit in fury at her scolding. _The nerve of the woman!_ “Look, it’s because I **DON’T** give a bloodbat’s vomit about that insane oaf!”

He was about to say more, but the moment he said ‘oaf’, the Fire symbol on Rowan’s bark note burst into flames, causing her to drop it immediately. It proceeded unwaveringly to devour his message after leaving Rowan a slightly singed hand, finally smoldering to a pile of ash on the floor of Kane’s kitchen. _And a burnt spot on one of my favorite rugs_ , Kane noted with anger.

The two wizards stared at the pile of cinders for a moment, and then looked at each other, then back at the pile. Finally, Kane spoke.

“I never thought he had it in him,” his voice held a respect for the Pyromancer that was rare.

“That’s the last straw,” Rowan growled, clutching her hand. “Kane, catch my body.”

“What?” His answer was Rowan’s body suddenly collapsing, the Conjurer dropping his knife to the floor and rushing to catch her before she landed in ash.

* * *

Alia couldn’t get what Talon had said out of her head. As much as she hated him for saying those horrid things, the seed of doubt had been planted _. Could he be right?_ Rowan was undead after all, and every Life student was given at least a rudimentary lesson on the undead, in case they had to tackle a case of rogue Necromancy later in their Theurgist careers. And her classes had taught her that the undead lacked the spark of life even though the soul was tied to the body. It was a pseudo-life. Could a fake have emotions?

Her entire childhood Rowan had looked after the twins, always there if they needed her, always going off and doing her ‘soul-search’ thing if they got lost. _It made hide-and-seek really interesting,_ Alia recalled with a smile as she walked through Ravenwood. Rowan had always been the big sister she could count on, always willing to hug her on a hot summer day, or bundle her up more to be safe during the frigid winters. As she’d gotten older and better understood Rowan’s uniqueness, she occasionally felt jealous, particularly about the whole never aging bit. But she never once doubted Rowan’s love for her.

 _Could it have all been a lie?_ It was not a thought that sat well with her. Discovering the remote possibility that a core part of your life had been false all along would make anyone nervous. She had to know for sure. Had to settle the matter, answer the question: was Talon going crazy, or did Rowan truly fake her love?

And that was why she was walking through Ravenwood now, heading for the relocated Death School, salvaged out of Nightside one year after the war. She needed to talk to Professor Dworgyn about this. He was the only one she knew, besides Kane and Rowan, who would have an answer for her. And she couldn’t go to either of them with a question like this.

Alia didn’t get very far, however, when she heard a group of first-year students in red-orange garb gossiping by the Ice School. Normally, Alia ignored practically all gossip around Ravenwood. But when Talon’s name came up from the group, she couldn’t stop herself from eavesdropping.

“I heard the sixth-years saying they saw smoke coming from his island,” one girl stated. “They think he finally burned his tree house. What Fire wizard would be stupid enough to live in a tree, anyways?” They all giggled.

“I heard that he finally just burst into flames and wouldn’t stop burning, and he’s now a fire elemental burning everything he touches,” said another.

Alia frowned, not liking these rumors, particularly the pleasure these girls seemed to receive from his suffering.

“I heard that he turned into a total hermit because he caught his girlfriend cheating with that blonde hunk from the Myth School.”

“Who, Kane Darksword?”

“Yeah, that guy!”

“He’s so dreamy!”

“Nah, sounds like bullshit to me. Why would a guy like him want anything to do with whoever would be foolish enough to date Talon Skullflame?"

“I heard Kane’s a total jerk…” Nobody seemed to share that girl’s opinion. “Who was Talon dating, anyways?”

“That unbelievably creepy Death TA,” replied one girl with a shudder. Alia growled, low and soft in her throat. They didn’t hear her.

“Rowan Skulldreamer, I think her name is. Fellow Savior.”

“Of all the girls to choose from, he picked a Necromancer.”

“And the most morbid one of all, too! I don’t think I’ve **ever** seen her smile. **So** not a good match!”

“She really scares me, to be honest. Do you know she actually killed Malistaire herself, after five years of being his student? **Brutal**. I don’t think she’s really human, to be honest.”

Alia couldn’t take it any longer, and stormed over to the giggling group of gossipers to set them straight. “Listen up!” They turned to look at the brown-haired, purple-robed intruder to the conversation, sizing her up. “My sister is, in fact, human, she just doesn’t find you pathetic wizards funny, or even worth smiling at! And Talon is just having a difficult time right now, so get off his back! Got it?”

They stared at her for a while, perplexed as to why she was snapping at them about all this. Then it seemed to dawn on one of the somewhat faster girls.

“Are you his girlfriend now, or something?” She asked, sneering. “Moved in pretty fast when Rowan dropped him, didn’t ya?”

“Oh I bet! Alia Sunsword, right? I’ve heard **all** the stories about you,” another said, leering at Alia. “Bet you jumped at the opportunity to get at your sister’s ex-boyfriend, didn’t you, slut?”

Lightning flashed behind Alia’s eyes, though none of the girls seemed to recognize the danger they were in. She tried to hold back her temper; it wasn’t working well.

“Come on, girls. Wouldn’t want to be late to class because of **her** _,_ ” another girl said, and the pack laughed as one, walking past Alia towards the Fire School.

“You know,” one girl said to the others as they walked away, “I do actually kinda miss Talon though. He was a great TA,” she proclaimed sarcastically.

“Yeah, great for fire shield practice!” They all burst out laughing.

Alia snapped, whipping around and hastily scrawling a sparkling Storm symbol in the air. Cobblestones around her burst into the air as bolts surged from her symbol and danced around her, coalescing into a blinding flash. 

* * *

Rowan had a little trick, a skill unique to her that was part of her special form of undead existence. She found it very easy to slip into the afterlife, to the grey netherworld of spirits, and return unscathed. A hard task for any normal Necromancer came as naturally to her as breathing **should;** at a young age she would occasionally, unknowingly, slip into the ghostly ether, collapsing and scaring the life out of her mother.

The netherworld wasn’t too different from the mortal realm, just grey and dour in comparison. Lacking all color but shades of black and white, it was a dreary and dull place. But Rowan honestly, truly felt at home here. She understood this realm and its lifeless inhabitants better than anyone else.

Heck, she even slipped in now and then to talk with her father.

But for now, she was using her ghostly apparition to survey Talon’s sanctuary. Being technically a ghost at the moment, and seeing his ruins from the afterlife, he wouldn’t be able to see her yet. But she could change that, once she found him. She looked around, noticing how much darker grey everything was. Since the only tree still standing was the massive centerpiece tree, she quickly assumed everything else had just burned to ash.

The central tree, however, was well on its way to joining them, as Rowan could see grey flames licking up the trunk of the great behemoth. He was actually burning his house down!

Any further observations on the matter were halted by a low sound coming from beneath her. At first she wasn’t sure what it was, but then it grew, and became recognizable. It was a song. She looked below her, seeing a herd of miniature unicorns staring up at her hovering apparition.

It wasn’t just any song though. It was THE Song.

“They know you’re here, Rowan,” Talon’s voice cut through the void, slicing through the singing and digging into her ears with an echoed quality. It was unsurprising but irritating nonetheless; the netherworld tended to do odd things to sound. “I warned them you might come after me, and told them to keep watch.”

Rowan looked around for Talon, but couldn’t see him. She cried out his name as the singing grew louder, and he finally appeared. He came from the front door of his tree home, opening it as if it weren’t on fire at all. Rowan could only make him out because his dark clothing clashed with the soft grey of the flames behind him. But she couldn’t make out his face as it was completely obscured by his black hood.

Rowan knew one thing for certain; she didn’t like the new look. It wasn’t Talon at all. It looked more like something Rowan would wear if auditioning for a part in The Raven and The Oak.

“You can’t just break up with me on a piece of bark, Talon!” Rowan yelled into the ether, forcing it to obey her and project her voice into the mortal realm. Talon looked directly at her, as if he could see her.

“And you can’t just get my love for free,” Talon roared back, as Rowan was floating near the edge of his sanctuary in the afterlife, and he was going to make damn sure she heard him. “Not anymore! You can’t have my love and Kane’s bed all in one convenient, easy to use package, you fiend! One or the other. And you’ll have to earn mine, now. Work for it, like everyone else,” Talon smirked. “Not that you’d understand that concept.”

“Now listen here, you selfish-” Rowan began to screech, but Talon cut her off with a wave of his hand. The unicorns’ song grew stronger, cutting her off and causing her to curl in revulsion. Normally, she could resist the effects of the Song of Creation on the undead, but in this ethereal state, she was vulnerable like every other ghost to Death’s greatest enemy: Life.

“No! You listen!” Talon snarled as he cut her off, fire crackling over his hands. “I am through with you, Rowan Skulldreamer. We are over! You are nothing to me now!” Fiery wings grew out of his back as he spoke. “You are nothing but a mistake of my past, an error to learn from. And learn I have. I have learned the truth about life, about this world, about love. It isn’t simple, or pleasant, and it is never fair.” His draconic wings formed, and he flew into the air, approaching the space occupied by Rowan’s ghost.

She couldn’t respond, because the Song was still paralyzing her, and she hated every second of his power over her. The real Talon, the man she had loved, would have never taken advantage of her in this state to render her powerless. The Talon she knew had bent over backwards to keep her comfortable and protected in his presence. But this wasn’t her Talon. This was someone else, someone who had taken over Talon’s body and changed his very soul, creating this corrupt monster; a monster that a simple spell battle wasn’t going to defeat.

“I cried for a few days, of course,” Talon continued, his ether-veiled face only inches from Rowan’s. She could only see the fire in his eyes, feel the anger radiating off of him like solar flares bursting from the sun’s surface. “Who wouldn’t, when forced to realize just how foolish and ignorant they had been for their whole life? But you know what, I got over it,” he smirked again, looking her directly in the eyes. Rowan didn’t doubt any longer; somehow, he had managed to see her against her will. He leaned closer to her, till their noses, had they been on the same plane of existence, would have touched.

“I got over you…” His tone was low and deathly flat, cold and unflinchingly resolute. It made Rowan actually shiver. Talon moved away from her, turning his back on the Necromancer and sinking towards the ground. “I’ve moved on to more… pressing matters. There are other things that have weighed heavily upon me for some time, and now,” he landed softly on the ground, his wings dissipating as he spread his arms, “I have the power to deal with them.”

He didn’t even turn to look at her, instead covering his staff in a glimmering light whose color was obscured in her view. “Do tell Kane I am expecting him to visit me,” he told her as the Song suddenly grew exponentially fiercer, and Rowan groaned in distress. “I have… **plans** for him. Goodbye and good riddance, succubus!” Talon shouted over his shoulder, tapping his staff on the ground three times.

A wave of Life magic washed over the Necromancer’s ghostly form, filling her mind with the Song of Creation. She tried to fight it, but in her weaker state, she just couldn’t fend off the Song’s power, and found herself thrust back into her body.

* * *

Kane was rather used to the dead waking up in his villa, and Rowan’s little trick was not a new thing to him either, but regardless, having her suddenly sit up from his bed like she was gut-punched startled the conjurer. He looked at her, noticing the seriously worried look on her face with grim displeasure.

And she was worried; even though a small part of her felt she should be furious at Talon for everything he had done to her in that moment. The worry won over because she felt, deep inside her gut, that that wasn’t Talon. Something was very, very wrong about this whole thing, and Talon’s current behavior was just a symptom of an underlying problem Rowan hadn’t yet been able to figure out. She was sure of it.

“Didn’t go well, huh?” Kane asked. Rowan didn’t answer, but instead looked at the half naked wizard, wearing just his trousers at the foot of his bed. Normally, she’d have found this rather inviting. But right now, she couldn’t get Talon’s final words out of her mind, and instead of being aroused by Kane’s physique, she found herself fearing for his safety. Just what was Talon planning for the Conjurer?

And considering Talon’s violent state of mind, could Kane survive it?

* * *

“I shouldn’t even be here,” Alia grumbled, sitting on a bench in Ravenwood’s head offices, having just finished receiving a stern scolding from Headmaster Ambrose.

“Alia,” Tasha replied, sitting next to her twin sister, “You did attack a group of first year Pyromancy students… in Ravenwood… with a Kraken... Did you really think you’d not get in trouble?” 

“No, I didn’t,” Alia admitted, sulking. “I didn’t think at all, actually, I just snapped.”

“Why?” Tasha inquired, worried.

“They were insulting Rowan! And Kane!” Tasha looked unconvinced by this news. “And Talon, too! They were poking fun at his current, well… state,” Alia shuddered a little, remembering the last time she’d seen the Pyromancer, and the terrible things he’d said about her sister. “And they called me a slut…” She muttered under her breath.

“Not entirely undeserving a title, though, is it?” Tasha remarked coolly. While that may have been a terrible thing to call her sister, Tasha was well aware of Alia’s lifestyle, and never hesitated to make her disapproval known.

“Maybe, but still! They said I was moving in on Talon the moment he broke up with Rowan,” Alia responded.

“Even you know better than that,” Tasha nodded in agreement. “You have gone to see him, though, haven’t you?” Tasha asked, surprising Alia, who turned to look at her sister to ask how she knew. Tasha shrugged, “Miguel figured that, since both of you were slighted by this whole affair, you would, as he put it… sería aliado contra ellos.” Alia looked at Tasha for a moment, before raising an eyebrow.

“What does **that** mean?”

“I’m not really sure,” Tasha admitted, pouting. “I usually don’t bother asking for a translation when he slips into his native tongue. I think it meant you two pairing up against them, or the like.”

“Well, I have no interest in taking Talon from Rowan to make her jealous, so you can stop worrying about that,” Alia told her hastily, “but I did check up on him, because Rowan asked me to.”

“Is he not letting her in?” Tasha looked admittedly unsurprised by this possibility.

“She got chased off by an angry unicorn…” Alia let that mental image sink in for a moment, and both girls giggled.

“I didn’t know unicorns could get angry,” Tasha finally stopped giggling long enough to comment.

“I know, me neither,” Alia sat back against the wall, sighing. “But I checked up on him, and…” She stopped, unsure how much of that encounter she wanted to put her innocent-minded twin through.

“And what?”

“He’s not himself, Tasha…” she began slowly, “he’s changed his whole personality. It was like seeing Kane in Talon’s robes. He was gruff, abrupt, all confident and powerful,” she flexed her arms and put on her best strong-man face when she said this. Then her face dropped, “and he said things… terrible things about Rowan that Talon never would say.”

Worry flashed over Tasha’s face, mostly directed at the disheartening air coming from her twin. “Like what?”

“He said she didn’t love him, or me, or anybody…” Alia whispered, not looking at her sister but instead at the floor, hunched over with her elbows to her knees.

“That’s nonsense!” The Thaumaturge’s outburst was uncharacteristically sharp, and she stood up and pointed a finger at Alia. “Don’t you listen to a word he said! He’s wrong!” Alia just continued to stare at the floor until she felt her sister was done with her outburst.

“Except he might not be,” Alia muttered, looking back at her sister. “She is undead, after all. She fakes a lot of things to appear natural, even breathing regularly. What if she faked loving us too?”

“But… but she’s our sister… of course she loves us,” Tasha replied softly, her anger turning to fear.

“And she’s undead. That could mean she’s emotionless,” Alia reiterated, standing. “Either way, that’s what I was going to find out before I attacked those girls. I was going to talk to Dworgyn, see if Talon was right.”

“He can’t be right,” Tasha proclaimed with a resoluteness one would expect from a Thaumaturge, “He just can’t be. Rowan loves us and I know it, and so do you.”

“Well, I’m going to find out for sure, Tasha,” Alia replied with almost equal firmness. 

“I should tell Miguel about this,” Tasha decided, nodding to her self as if there had been an internal argument.

“You go do that,” Alia told her, patting her on the shoulder. “I think my detention is coming.”

Alia’s detention consisted of spending the night helping Professor Dworgyn polish the gravestones in the Death School grounds, a task she was very hesitant to go through with. However, Professor Dworgyn was exactly the person she wanted to talk to anyways, so it worked out well enough, she supposed. The hunch-backed Death Professor handed her a polishing rag and some sort of fluid she couldn’t identify, and led her to the graves behind the building.

“Why does this have to be done at night, again?” Alia inquired, shivering in the cold.

“Because they must gleam just right in the moonlight, of course!” Dworgyn’s hoarse voice replied, as he walked over to a gravestone and began to polish it slowly with his own rag. “Good evening, professor. I hope you’ve been sleeping well,” he stated cheerfully. Alia groaned and began to rub the marble of her first gravestone.

After about half an hour of making marble gleam in what little moonlight there was, Alia finally asked Dworgyn what had been nagging at her since she left Talon.

“Professor Dworgyn, can the undead have emotions?” The hunchbacked man looked at her with what she guessed was confusion for him, for it didn’t look much different from the usual expression on the man’s face.

“What spurs this question, child?” He croaked, raising his lantern so the light reached out to cast her in its soft glow.

“I’m just… curious,” Alia replied slowly, and the Death professor lumbered over to her gravestone, setting the lantern upon it after begging the pardon of the grave’s occupant.

“My body may be malformed, young lady, but my brain is quite functional. This is about Rowan, your older sister, isn’t it?” Dworgyn questioned, and Alia was about to ask him how he knew Rowan was her sister, but he tapped a long finger on his wrinkled head to give her an answer. “Like I said, quite functional.”

“Now, to answer your question, and put your young mind at ease. Yes, the undead have emotions, of a sort,” he began, pulling at his long grey beard in thought. “Usually the undead a wizard summons feel pain, sorrow, vengefulness, or anger; or a combination of those. You might, sometimes, find an undead with a sense of humor. Difficult, admittedly, but possible.”

“What about love?” Alia asked, cutting straight to her point. Dworgyn gave a puzzled grunt.

“Well, I don’t know about that,” he replied after some thought. “It is not found in any records I can think of.” Alia’s heart dropped at this, and it did not go unnoticed by Dworgyn. “However, your sister is no ordinary undead, dear child. In fact, nothing like her has ever existed before. And I don’t think it would be ethical, or appropriate, to study her.”

Alia snorted at that, imagining Rowan put in a cage for observational studies. **That** wasn’t going to work very well at all. Dworgyn picked his lantern up off the gravestone, thanking the dead man for his time, before looking at Alia again.

“Personally, child, I think your sister is very capable of emotion, even love. She is the most alive undead I have **ever** seen, and I would not doubt that she would be abnormal. I can say for certain though, that if she isn’t able to love, she is very adept at giving you the closest undead expression to love, and that should count for something. Most undead don’t even bother with that.”

Alia smiled, his words sinking in. “Thanks Professor, that makes me feel a lot better,” she told him.

“Good to hear, dear. Now, make sure to get the corners,” he told her, shuffling back to his work. They continued on for another quarter hour before Alia’s hyperactive mind came up with another question.

“Professor, what about Necromancers?”

“What about Necromancers?” Dworgyn repeated, shuffling back over to her with mild annoyance. She’d only gotten through one stone so far.

“Can they be heartless?”

Dworgyn considered the question for a time, pondering his answer, before seeming to settle on a good one. “If by heartless you mean emotionless, child, then definitely not. Necromancy involves the manipulation of one’s emotions, fear in particular but others as well, and channeling them into your opponent through your spells. If you were emotionless, you would make a terrible Necromancer.” He nodded fiercely at this, as if there was no argument to that fact. “If by heartless you mean cold and uncaring… well, that’s a wizard-by-wizard basis, dear girl. Some choose to appear cold and uncaring to unnerve their opponents, or because that is how they deal with their art.”

There was a pause for a time as Dworgyn let Alia consider his answer. “Does that answer your question?” He sounded exasperated by the unexpected lecture.

“Yeah, thanks,” Alia said with a grin, returning to her work. But her mind was not on the gravestone she was polishing. Rather, she couldn’t stop thinking on Dworgyn’s words, and what they meant for Rowan. Talon couldn’t be right, according to the Death Professor. He said it was possible for undead to have some emotions, and that if Rowan was truly emotionless she would be a terrible Necromancer. And she was most definitely not a terrible Necromancer! 

Of course, that applied to Kane as well then, since he minored in Death magic. Alia must have been right; Kane did miss Talon, he just had trouble expressing it or purposely hid his emotional view of the situation. And then she thought about his statement about not loving anyone, but really liking her. If what Dworgyn said was true, than that meant Kane actually loved her, and that was just his low key, Necromancer way of expressing it.

Such knowledge improved her mood and made her polish with greater enthusiasm. It also revealed to her what must be done. She had to show Talon the truth. _But how?_


	7. The End of Week Three

Miguel sat at his grand piano, fingers dancing over the keys as he played a piece he had written for a celebration at Wizard City, marking the end of the reign of terror brought by Lord Nigthshade. It had quickly caught on amongst the wizards, becoming a sort of theme song for the city that was a favorite for musicians to play at restaurants and bars. It was inspired by his father, who had taught Miguel that writing music and casting spells were, in principle, the same. It had upbeat sections and soft, gently rolling sections, and generally cheered him when he played it. Of course, the actual piece was meant for more than one instrument, but he liked the piano solo just as much.

It was a good song to think to, as the notes flowed out of him as naturally as his Balance spells, so required little concentration. As he played he thought about Talon, and the situation as a whole.

A few nights ago, Tasha had informed him of Alia’s encounter with the Pyromancer, which until then had been the first time anyone had seen him in two weeks. She told detailed what Talon had said to Alia, and how it had hurt the girl. This in particular had Miguel more worried than the week before. Talon was never one to inflict pain on those he considered friends, mental or physical; not on purpose, anyways. But this sounded far too deliberate to be an accident, his words like spears piercing Alia’s deepest insecurities.

It also sounded like Talon had done lots of studying on the topic of the undead, but failed to exercise one of the primary rules of research; multiple sources. Miguel had many of the books on Life magic that Talon definitely had, though Talon almost certainly had more due to Miguel’s comparatively limited library space. But Miguel also had several texts on Death magic; even though he found the art repulsing and would never actually practice Necromancy, he had to keep his literary resources balanced. He was positive Talon did not possess such texts by choice, and therefore was forming a conclusion concerning Rowan based entirely on one-sided research.

 _Such an error should be expected though,_ Miguel reasoned with himself as he played. _Talon was never a studious guy, so naturally his studying techniques would be flawed._ His flawed research methods were not the source of Miguel’s concerns. It was the firm resolution Talon had displayed to Alia that he was correct that worried the Sorcerer. It could make it hard to convince Talon of the error of his ways.

And then there was the seclusion; the deliberate anti-social manner Talon had acquired since the Incident. Talon was always a social butterfly, and in fact, was the very founder of the group of friends. It was Talon who befriended Rowan and Kane, and Talon was the first student to approach Miguel when he arrived on his first day at the school. All three of them had been unwilling at first to socialize with him –Miguel’s reason being that he was so nervous around so much magic for the first time in his life- but Talon had kept at it, every day trying again to befriend them. It was only natural that Rowan’s sisters join the group when they enrolled; as one of Rowan’s few friends, she of course introduced them to the Pyromancer.

To have the heart of the group disappear like this… it was no wonder their time together was becoming steadily more depressing and dull.

Miguel’s musical musings were interrupted by his heckhound, Sasha, barking outside. The interruption was not born of concern, as Sasha barked whether the person arriving was friend or foe, but it did mean someone was there he should go greet. With a playful flourish he snatched his musketeer hat and twirled it before placing it on his head, stood up, and buttoned the jacket of his oaken-brown suit. He headed downstairs and opened the door just after the newcomer knocked. The newcomer upon his doorstep this late morning was a very distressed Rowan. 

“We need to talk,” She said quickly. She looked ready to barge in, but respect for Miguel and upbringing held her back.

“Come in,” Miguel stepped aside so she could pass, closing the door. “Can I get you something?” He moved to a walnut wood bar to the right of the front door, motioning to one of the root beer kegs.

“No, thanks,” Rowan responded, sitting on one of two settees placed before a white marble fireplace and crossing her arms. Miguel moved to the other settee, placing his own mug of tea on the elegant coffee table that sat between them, also carved from walnut. It was his entry hall seating area meant primarily for guests, and so shown off some of his more refined decorating tastes. “Is Tasha home?”

“No,” Miguel replied, frowning slightly. “Today she wished to tend to her piggles at the castle. Why?”

“Because I don’t want her hearing what I have to say,” Rowan admitted, leaning back on the couch. “Talon’s getting worse.” Miguel nodded in understanding, and in his mind came to the conclusion that Talon was **definitely** getting worse than even she likely realized. She rarely, if ever, came to talk with him about much of anything; especially without Tasha. Despite being in-laws and fellow soldiers, Miguel and Rowan had never really gotten along. They had resigned to tolerance of each other very early in their communal career, mostly because there was no other way to live after Talon had decided they should be friends. Miguel’s childhood prejudices of magic, and Necromancy especially, had doomed their relationship from the start, and it didn’t help when he found out her ‘condition’. But -ever the gentleman- Miguel never openly shunned her, and still sought her approval when he began courting her sister. And she had given it.

“Tasha told me that Alia told her something similar,” Miguel stated as he sipped his tea, and Rowan narrowed her eyes. “Qué?”

“That’s funny, because when Alia finally got around to telling me what she found when she went to check on him, she said he was **fine** ,” She hissed.

“Well, obviously, he is not. Tasha said he had told Alia some very mean things about you,” Miguel informed her, “likely why she didn’t share it with you.” He smiled sweetly and she shook her head in disgust.

“Probably similar to something he told me, but that’s not why I came here,” She stated, waving the topic away.

“Why did you come, then, cuñada?” Miguel replied, and Rowan looked at him strangely for a moment, thrown off by the new term. 

“You’ve never used that word before… what’s it mean?” She finally asked. Normally she could theorize, but she had a feeling Miguel wouldn’t call her something that profane. **Ever.**

“Cuñada? I think a direct translation would be ‘sister-in-law’,” Miguel stated after a moment of thought. Rowan gave a thoughtful ‘hmm’ for a moment, and then nodded.

“I like the way you say it. Sounds more interesting than sister-in-law,” Rowan watched him sip some more tea before finally snapping. “Alright, I’ll have some as well if it makes you feel better.” Miguel’s shoulders immediately relaxed as he set his cup down and rose from the settee.

Miguel was quick in prepping her cup, having the hot water already prepared. In short order there was a hot cup of fine Marleybonian tea in her hand as well. With propriety now out of the way, Miguel finally seemed more comfortable, so she could carry on with the reason she came.

“Talon attacked me,” She said suddenly, making sure Miguel was not sipping tea when she said it. Miguel, having just recently finished a sip, lowered the cup slowly, and then set the tea on the table to give her his complete attention.

“Cuñada, are you okay?” _This is not an escalation I anticipated…_ he thought grimly.

“Yes, I’m fine now. But three days ago I was barely functional,” She found his concern sweet, but then this was Miguel. He was concerned about everyone he considered at least a friend, and she was his ‘cuñada’.

“How did he hurt you?” Miguel inquired.

“I had no choice but using my ghosting-”

“Do not speak of that in my house, por favor,” Miguel interrupted her quickly with a raised hand, knowing where she was going. The thought sent shivers down his spine. Rowan gave a heavy sigh, but relented.

“I visited him by special magical means since he wouldn’t let me physically enter,” She paused so Miguel could nod approval at this description and lower his hand. “The method I used leaves me very vulnerable to Life magic, and he used it against me.”

“And it left you barely functional?” Miguel asked, perplexed. The only Life magic he had ever felt was healing magic and some weak offensive spells. Nothing he’d come across could lay a grown woman low for days. _But she’s not a grown woman,_ Miguel reasoned swiftly. _Does it feel worse for the undead?_

“Imagine nails on a chalkboard, if you will,” Rowan began, and Miguel cringed. “Now imagine that tenfold, surrounding you, and pounding upon your ears incessantly, all the while feeling your skin want to tear itself apart.” With each elaboration, Miguel looked even more uneasy until he looked a step away from curling in the fetal position. “Yeah, it hurt, badly,” she concluded. “It left me shaking and unable to function for nearly two days. It wasn’t until about three days ago that I was actually able to stand. To make matters worse, Talon actually managed to magically force me to remain in my –oh get over it Miguel,” Rowan snapped as the Sorcerer winced, “he forced me to remain in my body through his magic!”

“He can do that?” Miguel was stunned by the revelation, mind turning the possibilities over.

“I know, right? How the hell does one accomplish that? That’s a level of magic he should not be able to perform as a secondary Theurgist, and to be honest, it was excruciating,” Rowan continued to explain, leaning back on the couch again with a groan and rubbing her neck as she looked at the ceiling. “I don’t know how you deal with living on a daily basis, Miguel. For two days, his magic made me feel **alive** , and it **hurt!** Everything ached, all my barely healed wounds became freshly painful, my head was pounding-”

“Sounds to me like your body was showing its wear,” Miguel noted, forcing himself to sip some tea just to bring a semblance of normalcy to the conversation.

“Thanks for making it sound so typical,” Rowan sarcastically tossed back at him, eyes narrowed.

“Because it is, when you treat your body the way you have. Use and abuse, and the body will show it. You just… ignore it, I suppose,” he stated hesitantly, “what matters more to me is not that being alive hurt you, Rowan, because life hurts and we all deal with it, únete al asociación. But rather that Talon did this to you, and that he could do it to you. That tells me he has done more than brooding, but also thorough **studying**. Unusual for him,” Miguel concluded.

“And dangerous when you factor in the other thing I wanted to tell you,” Rowan leaned forward when Miguel looked intrigued, frowning. “He told me he had pressing matters that he now had the power to deal with, and some of it concerned Kane.”

“Neither sound muy bueno,” Miguel commented dryly.

“Exactly, and it’s been bothering me for the whole week, Miguel. I think Kane may be in serious danger now,” Rowan admitted, fear crossing over her face.

“It certainly sounds as such,” Miguel agreed, setting his tea cup down again. “Am I to presume that this is where I come into play?”

“Yep,” Rowan pointed to the Sorcerer. “I need to know what he’s planning, so I need you to find out what he’s up to. Can you do it?”

“I can try, cuñada, but I make no promesas,” Miguel proclaimed with a sigh after a moment of thought.

“The best you can do is the best you can do,” she agreed and shrugged, “however I need something else as well. I need you to warn Kane.”

“Are you unable due to Talon’s spell?” Miguel asked, confused by the request. Why would he need to warn Kane if she could do so herself?

“No. Kane just won’t listen to a word I say when I start to bring any mention of him caring about Talon to a conversation,” Rowan shrugged again and sighed with frustration, resting her chin in one hand. “Which means you will also need to refrain from telling him I sent you, understand?”

“But of course,” Miguel stood up, holding out a hand to help Rowan from the settee. “Now, if our business is concluded, I will get right to the quest you have given me.”

“Thanks, Miguel,” Rowan decided to satisfy his inner gentleman and let him help her up from the couch and lead her to the door. It was the least she could do, given the gravity of her request.

“It was my pleasure,” he told her, holding the door open for her. “I shall do only my best for la familia, cuñada.”

“Consider this my thanks for having you as a brother-in-law, then,” Rowan said softly, taking the Sorcerer into a strong hug. Miguel accepted the hug on etiquette alone, hating how stone cold the Necromancer felt. It just wasn’t natural. But he was pleased she was accepting him as a brother-in-law, even though it took two years for her to show it. “Tell Tasha I send my love.”

* * *

As Miguel promised, he visited Talon to see what he could uncover about the Pyromancer’s plans for Kane. He knew it wasn’t going to be easy, however, when the first thing to greet him upon passing through the Spiral Door was a wall of fire.

Miguel had been told about the vine-wall that blocked the cobble path, but he was pretty sure that wall existed no longer. Now there was only a thick curtain of flames. Not only that, but the earthen wall surrounding the sanctuary was now capped by a towering inferno, which blended into the fire wall before him to make a continuous ring of searing flames, blocking all view of what lay within the sanctuary.

It also effectively blocked passage by anyone not a Pyromancer. But Miguel was not a normal wizard; he was a Sorcerer. So while not a Pyromancer, he had been taught to access that inner flame. He looked inwardly towards it, closing his brown eyes to concentrate as he mentally cupped that flame in his hands. Without opening his eyes, he proceeded to carefully etch with his hands a Balance symbol with glimmering pale orange light, all the while focusing his mind on nurturing that small inner fire.

The Spectral Blast spell was a risky spell when one sought a specific element, as it did not always take requests. However, Miguel had found that if he concentrated hard, focusing strongly on one specific element, he tended to get it more often than not. It wasn’t a technique he could rely on in battle, but it came in handy here as he completed the symbol. It flashed and his hands quickly came together to capture that white hot orb of magic. Three new orbs formed just above and behind him, igniting into spheres of fire.

Opening his eyes, Miguel firmly thrust his hands forward, expelling the orb of light. It shot into the wall of flame, swiftly followed by the flaming spheres that whooshed past him, one singeing the feather of his musketeer hat. All four collided just before the infernal wall, and burst into column of yellow flame. From the other side of the wall, a plume of fire rushed forth, expanding several yards before dissipating.

Miguel straightened himself, removing his cap to inspect the feather. He was merely waiting, of course, and as he anticipated the wall parted a minute later, a black-clad wizard standing under the new flaming archway. 

“Hello Mr. Spellblade,” Talon smirked, amused at the method by which the Sorcerer had signaled his presence. “Nice blast, by the way.”

“Gracias, I’ve been practicing, señor Skullflame,” since they were now, apparently in Talon’s eyes, on a last name basis, Miguel might as well return the favor. “Figured it may get your attention, which seems very difícil, of late,” Miguel commented with a raised brow. “Busy with a new project?” He motioned towards the wall of roaring flames. Behind Talon all he could see was dancing ash. 

“And you want my attention **because** _…_ ” Talon began, sounding irritated. Miguel found this unsettling. He had heard such phrasing many a time, from a mouth very unlike Talon Skullflame’s; a mouth that was next on his to-do list.

“Because I am worried you may do something muy mal, amigo,” Miguel told him, putting one hand on the hilt of his saber. He had brought the weapon as a safety, and it looked like it could be necessary.

“Rowan sent you to find out my plans for him, didn’t she?” Talon asked smoothly, and then raised a hand before Miguel could speak to stop him. “Don’t try to cover for her, Sorcerer. It is only natural for her to fake caring for his safety, and she would of course seek you, the wise and always neutral Miguel Spellblade, to find out what I seek from Kane. If you must know, I intend to take from him what I deserve,” Talon explained darkly, his eyes glowing orange.

“And what do you deserve, señor Skullflame?” Miguel asked, perplexed by this remark. He was not aware that Kane had taken anything –besides Rowan- from Talon. Then again, he could be mistaken; they knew each other at least a year before Miguel arrived at Ravenwood.

“Everything he has,” Talon said softly, his head lowering to obscure his face under his hood once more. “But don’t worry, I won’t take his life. That will be his choice.” The last statement was ended with a rather unpleasant sounding chuckle, before Talon stepped back and the wall of flames caved in to conceal him.

Miguel stood there aghast at what he had just heard, the grip on his sword tightening. _Talon wouldn’t truly…_ _but he certainly made it **sound** like he would_. With a grim face, Miguel bowed to the wall of flames and turned to the door.

“If that is the way it will be, then very well,” Miguel said softly, looking over his shoulder. “Diviértete en el infierno,” he said before opening the door and walking out.


	8. The Duel

Kane had a violent past, and it most definitely manifested itself in an overall violent personality. Despite being a studious wizard, top of his class every year and favorite of Professor Cyrus Drake, he was at his core a visceral being, getting a thrill from fighting that rivaled the joy of discovery and understanding. Despite being such an intelligent man, he preferred to plant his fist square in an opponent’s jaw rather than deal with a dynamic and complex interrogation. If running you through would solve his problems sufficiently, he would give it more thought than keeping you alive. Growing up in Mooshu during a period of horrible war would do that to you.

Ever since he was ten years old, and first heard the news of his father’s death on the field of battle, Kane had strove to be the best warrior he could. He knew, with Mooshu’s rarely peaceful history, it was only a matter of time before he would be called to serve the Emperor. Kane had wanted to make sure that when that time came he would be ready, unlike his father.

His father had never been a warrior; he had merely been conscripted into the battle like other peasants. He was traveling merchant turned rice farmer, no one special, and only the members of Kane’s farming community mourned his passing. Kane did not want such a fate. To die in battle was viewed by some in Mooshu as a great honor; Kane considered it the great horror. He couldn’t allow himself to die like that; he wanted to die peacefully, calmly, in his sleep if possible.

When Charles Darksword died, Kane’s older brother Narichiro inherited the family farm. Kane’s mother became almost paranoid-level clingy to her youngest son; with one son running the farm and Kane reaching an eligible age –which was very young by other worlds’ standards- he would be conscripted in the next war. Kane hated those (thankfully few) years of his life, as he suddenly was unable to work the fields or even wander the market without his mother coddling him every step of the way. It took some convincing, but he got his brother to talk to the local noble who ruled over their lands; a Human named Nasamate Hiirosu, whom had recently married Kane’s elder sister Mu-Ling. Lord Hiirosu was able to secure the rice-farmer’s son a place in the Water dojo for training, and he was sent off to school at the –played up to combat his mother’s clinginess- insistence of his elder brother.

He hadn’t stayed in the dojo for more than a few years, however, before it was discovered that Kane had a magic the Samoorai could not help him master. The decisive moment occurred while defending the dojo from pig bandits; he accidentally summoned forth a troll during combat, and with no understanding of Conjuration swiftly lost control of the beast. Many combatants from both sides were injured, and it did successfully drive the pig bandits off, but the Samoorai had to defeat it when it continued to attack them. For the safety of the dojo and betterment of his own education, Master Hinneko decided to enroll Kane in Ravenwood.

The lessons he had learned over four years in the dojo had stuck, however, and so it was that, like today, he spent each morning practicing the arts of the armaments; honing his skills with sword and spear, naginata and axe. The chosen room of his villa for this morning ritual was the room directly behind his entry hall, connected by two short bridges. It was a large room, but the right side was dominated by a circular hole through which a stream of water fell from the scales of the Judgment statue above, which Kane liked to use to wash up after practice. Beside the circular hole was a large alcove with windows, big enough for a large wooden lectern and two torches. On this lectern sat the ancient manuscripts on various weapon techniques. A couple of weapon racks held his armory of considerable size, and his practice floor was covered in sewn-together tatami mats.

Kane was barefoot on the tatami mats right now, his athletic body clad only in dark blue breeches and wielding a gleaming naginata. His hands were wrapped in dusted cloth for grip, and he spun about the floor gracefully, smacking the shaft against one mannequin, and then spinning to slice the bladed head into the other. His straight blond hair was freely flowing about as he moved with only a few sweat soaked strands stuck to his head. He was getting quite into it, not noticing Miguel’s entry until he thrust the naginata forward with a yell, piercing a mannequin through its sandy heart.

“Well done,” Miguel commented, clapping softly. “Muy bueno.”

Kane turned his head, violet eyes regarding Miguel for a moment. Then he pulled the naginata from the mannequin, sending sand spilling onto the floor. He let the butt of the weapon rest by his feet, inspecting the blade briefly while addressing his guest.

“I presume you’re here for a reason?” It was Kane’s nearly traditional greeting. He turned to a weapon rack and placed the naginata upon it.

“Yes, I am,” Miguel began.

“If it concerns Talon, I am not interested,” Kane replied as he walked past Miguel to splash himself with water. Miguel sulked and sighed.

“It is about Talon, but I am not here to tell you that you ought to be worried or care or apologize, amigo,” Miguel told him, waving his hand dismissively, “you have enough people bothering you about that.”

“Still don’t care,” Kane declared plainly, continuing to splash his face and hair with water. Miguel stood there, arms folded, waiting patiently as Kane proceeded to make a big chore of cooling himself off. It wasn’t long though before it was obvious Miguel wasn’t leaving.

“Alright,” Kane said, turning away from the falling water to face his friend. “Since you insist it is different, let’s **make** it different. You, me, sparring match. You can talk while we spar.”

“Acepto sus términos,” Miguel grinned, unbuttoning his Marleybonian suit jacket. Removing it as Kane moved to his weapons racks, Miguel hung the jacket on a coat hook on the wall, followed by his mauve shirt. With a flourish, he then removed his musketeer cap and rested it on the hook atop both. When he turned around a wooden dagger was gliding towards him, and he caught it with practiced ease. It was followed by a wooden replica of a saber. He placed his own saber on the ground beneath his clothes.

They often sparred together at either Miguel’s house or Kane’s, so they both had a few wooden waster weapons to choose from at either location. But Miguel generally preferred his saber, occasionally paring it with an offhand weapon for variety. Today, however, he tossed the knife back, choosing to leave his offhand unarmed.

“Very well,” Kane conceded, picking up a thick wooden sword from his armory.

“The longsword today; an intriguing choice. Bored of the naginata, amigo?” Miguel commented, spreading his feet in his typical fencing stance, right ahead of left with knees bent, his left arm relaxing behind as he pointed the saber at Kane.

“Nope, just feel that all this peace time has made me rusty. Want to keep at the top of my game with my sword-wand,” Kane responded, moving to the other end of the mat, Miguel’s sword following him on his path. Kane spread his own legs in a similarly balanced, though slightly forward-leaning stance, holding the sword with one hand on the hilt and wrapping the other around the pommel. He held it before him in an openly offensive posture.

“You would do well to be en guardia, amigo,” Miguel declared as he advanced towards the Conjurer, saber moving to beat his opponent’s weapon aside. Kane anticipated the opening move and lowered his sword beneath the beat, sweeping it around to the other side of Miguel and striking. Miguel swiftly brought his saber across to parry the strike at the base of the blade, retreating as he did so. Kane forced the power of his cut into a twist that sent both swords towards the ground, forcing Miguel to retreat further to avoid the following upward cut as Kane’s weapon slid back up his own.

“And why is that, Miguel?” Kane asked incredulously as they began to circle each other, looking for an opening. “Does Talon want to hurt me or something?”

“Sí,” Miguel replied before advancing and lunging swiftly, forcing Kane to block the incoming strike to his head by raising his blade. It was a feint though, and Miguel rerouted his sword with a quick twist of the wrist, striking the side of Kane’s torso. Kane responded with a side slash in return, but Miguel had already beaten a hasty retreat. “And that is one-zero in favor of saber.”

“And you are worried for my safety? Why?” Kane inquired, looking annoyed at Miguel’s strike. “This is Talon, after all. It’s not like I can’t,” Kane stopped to suddenly lunge at Miguel, swinging for the sorcerer’s left. However, as he went to parry the strike, he found Kane had spun the blade up and around to strike his other side, landing a hardy hit on his shoulder. Miguel retreated as Kane followed through on his last strike, swinging for the left again. Miguel parried and gave a reposte that landed on Kane’s right shoulder, but Kane swept his sword into Miguel’s thigh in response to the parry. Both men retreated and proceeded to circle again. “Handle him,” Kane finished, setting the point of his wooden blade towards Miguel.

“Two-for-two, we are even,” Miguel stated, grinning as he did. It was often that they compared the efficiency of some weapons over others, and it was often that Miguel’s saber style won out. There were some of Kane’s weapon styles, however, that he found difficult. His longsword technique was one of them, as was the spear. “But you should be cautious, amigo. Talon is not what we thought,” Miguel said as he moved to strike, and they began a string of parries that ended in neither landing a hit.

“What do you mean?” Kane asked, thrusting at Miguel. He responded with a parry and reposte towards Kane’s head, but the Conjurer suddenly let go of his sword pommel and ducked under the strike, grabbing Miguel’s wrist and bringing his pommel up to strike at Miguel’s chin. Miguel quickly spun around Kane, twisting his wrist out of his opponent’s grasp. Kane ducked in time to avoid the slash that followed and both retreated to circle again.

“He has grown unusually strong in his Pyromancy, señor, since we have last seen him,” Miguel explained as they locked swords. “He wields fire now like an extension of himself, and it obeys without question. And I fear his intentions towards you may be muy mal,” he added, just before landing a good hit on Kane’s left arm. “Three-two, favor to saber.”

“Yeah, but he can’t be that much of a threat, can…” Kane stopped and looked over Miguel’s shoulder, eyes widening as his sentence trailed off. “What the hell?”

“Qué,” Miguel turned to see what had stunned Kane, and didn’t grasp it for a moment. “Where is your agua, amigo?”

“Good question,” Kane growled, just as Brutus, his pet blood bat, began screeching. Brutus loved to hang around the cavern and made an excellent alarm system as he could hear just about anyone entering Kane’s entire property, even above ground. And he only screeched when someone arrived. Both Miguel and Kane rushed through the villa towards the rocky slope that led up to the surface, neither dropping their swords nor bothering to dress further.

What they found on the surface did answer the question of where the water went, as Kane’s oasis was completely evaporated. The burning palm trees helped answer the question of how the oasis evaporated, but the question of how the palm trees caught fire was still unanswered.

“Where are you, Talon?” Kane roared, looking around. “I know you’re here!”

“You sure the firebush did not explode?” Miguel asked, also looking for the Pyromancer while his hands glimmered with primed energy.

“Positive,” Kane growled while brandishing the wooden sword like it would actually be effective. “Brutus wouldn’t have made such a racket otherwise. Show yourself, you coward!”

“How very observant of you, Kane,” Talon’s voice proclaimed as a ball of fire dropped from one of the palm trees, taking on a human shape before flickering away to reveal the wizard. “You always were the smart one,” he sneered.

“What the hell are you doing, Talon?” Kane shouted at the Pyromancer, brandishing his sword instinctively. “You can’t just walk in here and burn my property!”

“Clearly, I can,” Talon taunted, chuckling while raising his hands towards the burning trees.

“Why?” Miguel inquired.

“To get Kane’s attention, of course,” Talon responded calmly, “and to make a statement.”

“And that statement would be what, that you can burn things? Never would have guessed!” Kane jeered, stepping towards the Pyromancer.

“No,” Talon didn’t show any sign of annoyance at Kane’s antics, smirking instead at the angered Conjurer. “Rather, that I intend to make good on my threat, Kane Darksword.”

“What threat, fool? You haven’t made one,” Kane snapped, advancing closer. Talon remained stationary. Miguel’s face grew increasingly worried and his fingers curled around wisps of magical energy.

“This threat; I challenge you, Kane Darksword, to a duel. You are to meet me this evening at my sanctuary for the duel, and you are to show up **alone,** ” Talon demanded, looking Kane square in the eye.

“Still not seeing the threat, Talon,” Kane jabbed, “I could just as easily refuse and duel you now, instead. Right here. Unless you’re too chicken,” Kane sneered as his right arm began to glow a dark golden color, Myth magic coursing over his muscles.

“But you won’t,” Talon shot back, and Kane found his increasingly unflinching manner irritating. He wasn’t even batting an eye at the prospect of Kane fighting him now. “Because if you don’t accept these terms, Darksword, your library will burn.”

“You wouldn’t dare…” Kane hissed, narrowing his eyes at the Pyromancer. Talon sighed, and snapped the fingers of his left hand, flame crackling to life above his fingers. Talon’s long fingers curled around those flames before his wrist rotated, whipping the flames into a ball of fire that he casually flung upwards towards a tent. The tent in question was pitched on a cliff that overlooked the valley of sand, with a wooden platform and ladder leading up to it. It was Kane’s primary research tent for his excavation of the site, and it ignited like dried forest tinder the instant the fireball collided. Kane watched in horrified rage as his work was reduced to cinders.

“So many years, so much research…” Talon crooned wickedly, “now floating away in the breeze, forever lost…” He sounded like he was in a trance.

“I’LL KILL YOU, YOU MOTHER FU-” Kane raised the wooden longsword over his head, charging as he bellowed his rage. He was halted by Miguel, who was shouting for him to stop as he tackled the Conjurer to the sand.

“Be at my sanctuary when dusk approaches, Kane Darksword, or your library is next,” Talon looked thoroughly amused by the sight of a raging Kane trying to wrestle Miguel off, mere feet from him. With a deep chuckle, the Pyromancer became wreathed in flames that quickly engulfed him. The fire shrank as quickly as it appeared, leaving nothing behind.

Shortly after Talon teleported away, Kane slammed his elbow into Miguel’s nose, sending the Sorcerer reeling so he could roll free and get to his feet. He looked furiously up at the still burning remains of his work tent, and then at Miguel, who now sported a nose bleed.

“You let him go, you let that bast-“

“You wouldn’t have stood a chance!” Miguel flared back as he held one hand to his bleeding nose. For the first time Kane could recall, Miguel actually looked ticked off. Miguel was usually the cool, calm, collected one of the three boys, never getting more than frustrated or annoyed by their fighting. Now he looked properly enraged. Apparently, breaking his nose also broke his chill mood.

“I could kick that oaf’s ass up and down the Spiral, butt naked with a hand behind my back!” Kane snarled, fighting back the urge to strike Miguel again. “But you let him go!”

“You are in no condition to fight him, Kane, and you know it,” Miguel shot back, his voice leveling again. “You need to prepare. He’s gotten way stronger than he used to be, and far more desviado. You have to prepare for that,” Miguel told him, turning back towards the slope that led to the underground villa. “And prepare your temper to deal with him, también,” He added.

“You are not coming with me,” Kane stated firmly, following Miguel underground.

“I have no intention of doing so now, amigo. Not when I have to explain to mi amor why her esposo has a bleeding nose,” Miguel narrowed his eyes at Kane as he said this, carefully redressing himself for the return home while holding a cloth to his nose at intervals.

“Good. You deserved it anyways,” Kane remarked, “holding me back. No one holds me back. **Ever** ,” He added.

“First time for everything,” Miguel muttered, strapping his saber to his waist before bowing to Kane. “Buenaventura, mi amigo,” He then turned and walked out of the villa, only bursting into a ball of orange light when he was outside.

“Don’t need it,” Kane remarked to thin air when he was sure Miguel was gone. He began unwrapping his hands slowly, thinking about Talon. He knew just how to handle the upstart, overeager wizard.

Bring him down a notch.

* * *

Kane arrived at the prescribed time, as the sun was turning orange and the sky became tinted with the shades of dusk. He walked through the Spiral Door with confidence, and that confidence was not disturbed by the towering wall of flame that blocked his path beyond the door.

He had no reason to fear it either, since it parted at his approach like a curtain parting for the wind to pass. He walked on, uncaring that the fiery curtain shut itself behind him, sealing him inside. From beneath his dark blue, gold trimmed hood, he surveyed the area.

There wasn’t much to survey, of course, as like Rowan had said everything had been turned to ashes. However, unlike Rowan’s last visit, a few _minor_ changes had occurred. For one, every single statue of the mighty beasts of magic had been reduced to malformed, molten slag. From his position at the front of the sanctuary, he could see a Firecat and Unicorn statue at the entrance to the central tree, a Triton overlooking what was once a waterfall cascading into a pond on his right, and a Colossus standing before what was once a fountain on his left. Also on his right, standing in what was once a forest, was the statue of a Wraith, far in the back.

And all of them bore the scorch marks of fiery bombardment, suggesting that at one point Talon had vented his anger upon the sculptures, causing them to melt.

Another change Kane noticed was the heat. While not unbearable, it felt like the sun had been upon his back all day while working in his desert valley. He was already sweating and he had barely been here a minute.

The source of the high temperature was the massive tree at the center of the sanctuary, which normally would not give off much heat. However, the tree was no longer a towering proud wooden behemoth. Now, thick coils of fire spiraled upwards from the base of the tree, dividing when reaching a branch to create new spiraling strands to wrap each individual branch in a loving embrace of searing flame. The leaves had long ago burned away, being replaced by tongues of fire that licked towards the sky incessantly. It reminded Kane of that tree outside the Fire school, but on a hell of a lot larger scale. He couldn’t help but be slightly intimidated by the infernal tree. It was massive and hot, and spoke volumes of the strength of Talon’s pyromancy. If he was actively maintaining it, it would take an incredibly taxing amount of energy. Or he had enchanted it, which too would have been incredible; the skill required to enchant something of that size with magic of this magnitude was probably beyond your average professional enchanter.

 _I may have underestimated him_ , he briefly thought, before one hand went to the amulet around his neck. It was enchanted with a Fire Shield; a regenerating one, even. Sure, the shield could fail, but when it did there would be a restorative period, and then the amulet’s shielding would renew. So long as he could keep himself unscathed until the shield renewed, it shouldn’t be a problem.

He hoped.

There was movement at the base of the tree, and Kane could just make out a door opening through the veil of fire. Talon stepped through the flames like they were a beaded curtain, brushing them aside with a lazy gesture. He was still wearing his newly favored black raven robes and concealing hood, and in his right hand was Soulbrand, the dragon-staff he had been given by a drake ghost he had helped in Dragonspyre during the Necromancer War. 

Just by looking at them now, one uneducated in magical dueling would surmise Kane to be the winner on appearance alone. Whereas Talon had come to this duel in his extravagant, avian robes, Kane took a different approach. He came to the battle decked out in paladin plate armor, golden crosses gleaming off his pauldrons in the firelight. He wore a blue tunic over the chainmail and a blue cloak bellowed behind him, both bearing gold crosses and trim.

He looked even more the knight when he drew his weapon, a longsword with a broad blade and a wicked black hilt that sported golden teeth at the cross-guard and a bright purple gem for a pommel. At the hilt just above Kane’s hand, on either side, were large diamond shaped violet crystals embedded in the blade, dark energy shining within them. In addition the steel of the blade had been blued, giving it a dark blue sheen. As he positioned the sword between himself and Talon, it began to coruscate with a dark magic. It had once held a different enchantment, but Kane had replaced the original enchantment with one of his own, and the blade was now shimmering with Death magic.

“I was beginning to think you actually **wouldn’t** come,” Talon began, chuckling, as fire slowly worked its way from the tree, across the ground, and up his staff.

“You will **pay** for what you did, Talon,” Kane spat, preparing himself for the magical battle that was about to erupt.

“ **NO!** ” Talon suddenly burst out, his whole body now covered in fire that had no origin. His face remained exposed, reveal a glare filled with such malice it made the Conjurer inadvertently think of someone else; someone they had fought to destroy five years ago. Suddenly he slamming the butt of his staff on the ground and then spun it over his head before thrusting it towards Kane, body in a fiercely offensive stance. “It is you who will pay!”


	9. Locked in Fiery Combat

Alia was a woman of habit; sometimes rather unhealthy ones, other times at the very least benign ones. Her sexual habits were –in the eyes of society and her sisters- her worst, though rumors of other unsavory activities did persist, no matter how much she refuted them. Because of course drugs was the only reasonable explanation for her remaining a skinny, wild-eyed, unkempt mess, while her sisters were full-figured and fashionable. It can’t possibly just be the very nature of a capricious Diviner with no conscious concern for etiquette. Her sexual habits were also her strongest, and most persistent. Intercourse was to her as reading a book or playing a game was to others; it served as entertainment, meditation, and stress relief. Sexual activity would calm her down from a rage, or perk her up from a depressive gloom. It would energize her when she felt sluggish, or help her sleep when her brain just wouldn’t stop thinking. And when she got so stressed she couldn’t concentrate… well, she had a specific man for that.

This was just the way the pair worked; she couldn’t really view themselves as a couple, much as she would like to, because they weren’t. Instead they played a sort of dance, drifting between people but always migrating, somehow, back to each other. Often they would dance with someone else, maybe even several others, but –be it a week or a month later- they always came back together. Alia partly blamed herself for this, failing to resist temptation at every turn, but she was certain Kane was not putting forth any serious effort either. Sometimes he got romantic and Alia began to feel she had gotten some sway over him.

But then he’d run off and ‘dance’ with her **sister** instead.

It wasn’t that he’d gone to another woman that had bothered Alia, as they had been playing this game for a few years now. Rather, it was the woman that bothered her. Sisters were supposed to respect each other, and not go after a man one of them pursued. But it was also the frequency that had annoyed Alia so much; he should have been regularly choosing her, not Rowan. With Kane, regularity seemed to be the first sign of attachment.

Which meant tonight was a test as well, to see if Kane was still willing to frequently dance with Alia, or if Rowan had beaten the Diviner at her own game. But mainly, Alia just needed some stress relief.

She had been thinking hard on how to cure Talon of his blindness to the truth about Rowan, and it had agitated her all week. Her homework had become difficult to manage because her thoughts kept coming back to Talon. She was not having any luck though, and it was becoming so frustrating that she just needed a break from thinking. And Kane was **incredibly** good at keeping her mind from thinking.

When she stepped into the vast cavern that housed Kane’s villa, it was silent as the grave. This was quite typical and didn’t worry Alia; her frequent visits meant Brutus was so familiar with her scent and sound he only bothered to sound the alarm when instructed to do so. However, from her vantage point at the top of the slope, which wound down a cliff face to a wooden bridge below, she could see most of the uncovered structures of the villa, and saw no trace of Kane. That got her slightly worried.

 _He could be against a wall right now_ , she reasoned, heading down the path and crossing into Kane’s entry hall. She began to undo her ponytail, letting her straight brown hair cascade down to her shoulder blades. Kane had always preferred her hair down.

Kane was nowhere to be found, though, no matter which room she looked in. He wasn’t even in his bedroom. Alia frowned, coming up to the bed and looking at its one lone occupant. It was a spectral dragon, curled up nose-to-tail on Kane’s pillow.

“Tyson?” Alia tried to get his attention by just saying his name, since poking wasn’t going to work. The ghostly reptile remained unmoved.

“Tyson!” Alia shouted now, trying to wake him up. The dragon curled deeper into himself, letting off a snort of ethereal fire. Alia rolled her eyes and put her hands on her hips, “Alright, fine. **Lord** Tyson,” she called.

The dragon promptly raised his head, as if he had just woken up to his name, rather than being troublesome. There was a question in his gaze.

“Where is Kane?” Alia asked, motioning back to the empty villa. The dragon shrugged. “Alright. Well, that was helpful… Can you try to find him?”

Lord Tyson snorted again, curling up once more as if the conversation was now over. Alia frowned, but weighed in her mind the options. It was worth it.

“Please, o’ mighty Lord Tyson,” Alia began to beg, kneeling beside the bed to be eye level with the beast. “Could you please find Kane for me?” Lord Tyson looked at her for a moment, considering it. “I would be very grateful.”

This seemed to potentially appease the dragon, as he nodded and slowly turned to mist. Alia rose to her feet and sighed, looking at the pillow. She wasn’t sure she trusted the dragon, so decided to try herself. Alia teleported to the first place she felt Kane would be.

* * *

Rowan threw down her book when she heard several knocks on her front door. It was unusual for anyone to come to visit as her creaky old mansion home with its dark, damp corridors, bone chandelier and skulled stair rails tended to scare off most who would visit. Tasha and Miguel had never once even come inside to see the place since Rowan moved in; the other boys and Alia had done all the moving help. 

However, whenever someone did visit, it always seemed to be at the most interrupting of moments. She had been enjoying that book and now she had to put it down. _But I can’t let Henry answer the door, he’d finish what the house started,_ Rowan thought. Henry was her pet rat, but not just any rat. He was a finely dressed magician rat in a suit, complete with top hat, and he served as Rowan’s butler. However, some folks tended to find that a rat answering the door was the last straw. Normally Rowan wouldn’t care about someone visiting, but with all the craziness these days someone bothering to try to get to her house usually meant they had something to say she would probably need to hear. And having a little company now and again never hurt.

When Rowan opened the door, she found Alia standing on her porch, looking up with irritation at the shuddering porch roof. Rowan’s house had gone into full scare-away mode and the porch columns were currently separated, creating fangs. From Rowan’s view on the doorstep it looked like she was inside a monster’s throat, looking out to her sister on the tongue.

“I’m not here to bother you about Talon, so will you please tell your stupid house to stop growling at me?” Alia folded her arms as the low, unmistakable grumble of Rowan’s unhappy house made the building shudder. Rowan looked up as well.

“Very well,” Rowan replied, placing a hand gently on the doorframe. “Now, now, hush… she’s being nice, so you be nice in return,” Rowan whispered as she stroked the aged, warped wood of the doorframe, which was cold even to her frigid touch. She continued to soothingly whisper and stroke the door until the porch had settled down, the columns coming together again as the house calmed.

“Thank you,” Alia sighed, running her hand through her frazzled hair. “I think your house is awesome, don’t get me wrong, but it really creeps me out when it’s angry.”

“It creeps everyone out when angry,” Rowan commented, leaning on the doorframe she was previously stroking and raising an eyebrow at her sister while smirking. “What are you wearing?”

“Oh…” Alia blushed and wrapped her arms around herself as she looked down. Rowan questioned Alia because she was wearing a very new and different dress. It was an emerald dress with an extremely low cut v-neck; so low it stopped at her navel, in fact. Dark purple lace was woven over her chest, pulling the two sides together. The dress left her shoulders bare and her ankles exposed, yet hugged the rest of her so tightly that it showed off her slim, athletic physique and small bosom almost as well as if it were never there. “Well, um, it was meant for Kane’s eyes only but… that’s why I’m here. Kane isn’t at home so I thought I would try your place. Is he here?”

Rowan couldn’t tell if Alia was hopeful the answer would be yes or no. When she shook her head, though, Alia frowned.

“Did you check the surface excavation site for him?” Rowan asked.

“Yes, but he wasn’t there either,” Alia replied, shaking her head. “Where could he be? I was going to surprise him tonight.”

A thought struck Rowan. It was a horrible, worst-case sort of thought, and it made Rowan’s expression instantly grim.

“Was there anything different about his place, at all?” Rowan asked, praying to whatever deity gave a damn that the answer would not confirm her growing suspicion.

“Well, his dig tent, the one on the cliff,” Alia waited for Rowan to nod understanding, “that tent was burned to the ground. I thought that was odd, but figured there had been an accident with the firebush or something.”

“I don’t think so,” Rowan’s voice lowered solemnly; “it just seems too unlikely.”

“Well, then, what do you think?” Alia asked, growing frustrated quickly by her lack of a fun night.

“I think,” Rowan answered, “that I know where he is. But you are not going to want to be in that, if I’m right.” Alia looked confused. “Go home and change into your battle dress, Alia, and meet me at the Commons in thirty minutes. Then we’ll see if I’m right,” Rowan explained further, though Alia took a few moments before it dawned on her.

“Oh no, you don’t think…”

“Yes, I do,” Rowan nodded.

“I’ll be there in fifteen,” Alia declared, disappearing in a flash of crackling bolts that sent static through Rowan’s hair.

* * *

Kane ducked to avoid a fireball before his Myth symbol burst forth in blue-gold sparks, sending a bloodbat straight at Talon. The Pyromancer was knocked on the ground by the spell, but flipped back onto his feet swiftly. Kane straightened before spinning his sword in the air in front of him, another symbol forming. It was a Death spell, and when it chimed into glowing white light it released a small sprite, which hurled itself at Talon as its body shimmered a dark violet.

Talon smirked, amused at Kane’s small-time spell antics. His left hand opened before him, fire licking at his fingers.

“You think these first-year spells will really do something, Kane?” Talon jeered as a stream of fire suddenly blossomed from his hand, engulfing the dark sprite before it even got to him. “Come on! Where’s the great Kane Darksword’s power?”

“Why do you care how much effort I put into defeating you, Talon?” Kane sneered back, brandishing his sword before him. “You know it won’t take much to accomplish so why keep begging for more?”

“Because it will take more, Kane! So. Much. **More!** ” Talon roared, a Fire symbol burning before him. It burst, and for a brief moment Kane wondered if he had fizzled.

The answer came when a blinding sun erupted into existence above the two wizards, far brighter than the flaming tree above it. Kane raised his sword arm to shield his eyes and clutched his other hand to his amulet, uncertain what infernal creature Talon had just summoned. When the light finally faded, a blood-red serpent snaked through the air above Kane, wings of opalescent feathers flapping majestically to magically keep it aloft. Kane lowered his arm to look at the sun serpent and met fierce, ancient eyes glaring at him beneath a golden circlet crested with violet feathers. It screeched at him, a sound like a thousand Ravens being burned alive, before bellowing a stream of bright blue flames at him.

Those flames were hotter than any Kane had faced before; the heat was incredibly intense even when the inferno made contact with his Fire shield, spreading across the protective bubble to immolate the immediate vicinity. The heat burned against his skin despite the shield, as if he was standing in an oven. 

When the fires died off, they dispersed around Kane, not on him, leaving the Conjurer standing only singed, reddened, and surrounded by a ring of gently burning fire. Talon looked at the Conjurer with mild amusement, not the surprise Kane had expected.

“So, you found a way to stave off my flames, have you?” Talon smiled. Kane smirked back.

“Wasn’t hard,” Kane shrugged, flexing his shoulders. He held back a wince. _I’ll be bathing in aloe after that one…_

“Except it won’t work, Kane. You can’t stop fire, you fool...” Talon gave a deep chuckle before leering at Kane from under his dark hood. “You can only hold it back, and only for so long.”

“True, you do **seem** to have acquired more power than I recall,” Kane remarked sarcastically, charging at Talon suddenly with sword swinging. They briefly clashed, Talon blocking sword strikes with his staff, before they parted. Kane frowned; Talon had never handled his staff like that before. _Where did he learn that spell? And staff fighting?_ “And combat training, it seems.”

“Learned from the best,” Talon sneered, sending a stream of flame at Kane.

* * *

“Why are we at Miguel’s?” Alia asked, knowing Rowan was thinking Kane was at Talon’s. But Rowan had brought them to Miguel’s Marleybonian mansion instead, which to Alia seemed like the last place in the Spiral that anyone would start a fight; mostly because Miguel wouldn’t allow it. Since acquiring the mansion he had declared it a neutral zone, enforcing the rule that none of the six friends would be fighting here. Just like his dorm room was for the three boys, his mansion had become the grounds for civil discussions and working things through. You went to Kane’s, or the Arena, if you wanted to fight.

“Because I told him to do something for me, and I am not sure he succeeded,” Rowan answered, approaching the door and knocking hard.

“Buenas noches, Rowan, Alia,” Miguel greeted the sisters as per his usual, though he seemed slightly nervous. “Can I help you?”

“Where’s Kane?” Alia cut to the chase, not caring what Rowan was planning. She wanted to find Kane, and that was all.

“Qué?”

“Kane!” Rowan exclaimed, sounding irate. “He’s not at his place, and his tent was burned to the ground, and –what happened to your nose?” Miguel’s hand went reflexively to his still bruised and lightly bandaged nose, covering it.

“Sparing accident, that’s all. You were saying?”

“I was saying... I am thinking the worst, and therefore I want to know if you succeeded in getting Kane to listen, or find out what Talon was planning,” Rowan finished, looking over the nervous Miguel.

“Something wrong?”

“Perdonar mi cuñada,” Miguel answered, “But I have found what Talon was planning…”

“And?” Alia folded her arms over her Dragonspyrian military tunic, getting impatient.

“And did not succeed at getting Kane to listen,” Miguel lowered his head, “lo siento.” Rowan’s frown became grit teeth as she snapped and grabbed Miguel by the collar.

“Why aren’t you there with him then, huh? Why aren’t you helping him, **amigo?** ” She had a firm grip on his collar, and Miguel looked just the tiniest bit terrified.

“Talon said he’d burn down Kane’s library if he did not come alone, cuñada, there was nothing I could do,” Miguel explained, shrugging apologetically.

“Like hell there was!” Alia shouted, but Miguel held up a hand.

“I am currently monitoring their battle with a crystal ball, however,” Miguel declared, trying to regain face. “So far it has been like any wizard duel,” Miguel explained, “and I intend to step in if things get out of hand.”

“Miguel, I’m sorry, but you’re an idiot,” Rowan sighed, smacking her head with her palm. “With the way Talon has been acting, you know damn well it will get out of hand.” She looked over his shoulder. “Where’s Tasha?”

“Out shopping with the ladies of court. Why?” He answered, looking thoroughly confused. Rowan’s shoulders dropped.

“Looks like it’s me and you, Alia,” she said, and Alia nodded. The sisters grabbed each other’s hands before teleporting off of Miguel’s front stoop. Miguel quickly shut the door and headed upstairs, rushing to the center of a long dining table where a crystal ball sat, glowing with inner fire. That was because most of the image within the ball was fire from Talon’s residence, but Miguel could make out everything else.

“I may have to step in very soon…” He murmured aloud, deciding he needed to get his gear ready and heading off to prepare.

* * *

The Cyclops roared, slamming his hefty stone hammer onto the ash-covered ground. While the initial impact had been nowhere near Talon, it sent shockwaves that cracked the earth, speeding towards him in a cloud of ash, dust, and rock.

A golden orb that had been floating around Talon flared to life, covering him in a shimmering bubble. While the Myth shield saved him from the brunt of the damage, it failed to stop the shockwave from sending Talon rolling on the ground.

The Pyromancer got to his feet quickly, Fire symbol smoking before him. When it burst forth, however, a bellowing flame did not follow. Rather, a bright green ball of light shot straight at Kane, punching through his stomach and making Kane stagger back. The orb did not disappear, but began to swirl around and in between the wizards, as if caught in a whirlpool. When it finally disappeared, Kane’s body ignited, while Talon became bathed in a pale green aura.

“What spell is this?” Kane snarled, feeling heat course through his body unpleasantly. His amulet was holding the flames back, but this felt more like a lingering fire than the other spells. Kane knew it was only a matter of time before it eroded his shield and left him defenseless.

“I have linked us, Kane, with a spell that combines the might of Fire with the soothing power of Life,” Talon explained, smiling broadly. “Think of it as similar to your Death spells… only it burns the flesh, not the soul.” Talon chuckled, tapping his staff on the ground as he watched Kane slowly begin to burn. “You’ve seen me use it many times, Kane, but this is the first time you’ve been on the receiving end, isn’t it? Tell me, how does it feel?” There was an unnervingly sadistic undertone to Talon’s inquiry, and Kane refused to give him the pleasure of an answer. Getting to his feet, Kane grit his teeth as he felt the heat increase; his shield was waning.

“Talon, stop this duel now!” Rowan shouted over the roar of flames, which had begun to burn the charcoaled remains of the trees now. Their battle had sent fire everywhere, and most of the sanctuary was now smoldering or actively burning, illuminating the night with firelight. Talon turned to the newcomer, an amused look in his eyes that did not match his serious expression. But then he burst into a cordial smile.

“Ah Rowan… You’ve come sooner than I expected,” Talon remarked, bowing slightly.

“Talon, stop it! This duel is unnecessary!” Rowan cried out, staying away from the flames. She had gotten through the wall of fire by casting a shield, but that had barely survived the crossing.

“What will you do if I disagree? Try to stop me?” Talon moved towards the two girls, leaving his back to Kane, who started to cry out in pain. “Oh…” he cooed creepily, “seems his shield just died. What a shame…” Talon tsk-tsked and shook his head, holding his left hand behind him in a mockingly gentlemanly manner.

“If necessary, then yes,” Alia answered, pulling out a longsword. It sported a gold crescent moon guard with points heading for the blade, and an amethyst in the hilt. The entire blade gleamed violet and sparked randomly.

“It certainly seems like you came prepared, Alia,” Talon agreed, looking her over. She was wearing a military cap of deep black, and was clad in a black and gold Dragonspyrian soldier uniform and cape; lightly armored in pauldrons, bracers, and plated metal skirt, the design sacrificed some protection for greater mobility. “But you, Rowan, you look ready for class, not a duel against me,” Talon commented, shaking his head.

As egotistical as the statement was, Talon did have a point. Rowan was wearing a simple black student robe with red trim, and had let her black hair go freely down to her mid-back. The only indication she was ready for battle was the staff she carried, which was the grisly Terminus, a staff made of bone with a crown made from a ribcage and a skull.

“The robes don’t make the wizard, Talon,” Rowan shot back with a leveled tone, but Talon just grinned.

“Well, I hope they protect you from **this,** ” As they had been speaking Talon had been etching a Life symbol behind his back, a slower process than the usual manner. Now he whipped that hand forward, revealing and activating the magical glyph, which bloomed into emerald light. The light washed over Rowan, condensing into several small sparkles of green.

Alia rushed Talon with sword raised when the spell was revealed, crying out her anger at her sister being attacked. She brought the sword down in a powerful chop, but was not expecting Talon to casually side-step her strike. She also hadn’t expected him to grab his staff in both hands and take a swing at her with it. She quickly brought her sword up to block the strike, sparks flying. But she wasn’t able to block the next attack in time, as Talon slammed the other end of his staff into her head.

Alia collapsed to the ground, sword clattering in a shower of sparks. Talon had little time to relish the victory though as a dark cloud slammed into him and he staggered back. Rowan kept her staff pointed at Talon, the skull’s jaw agape, ready to cast another spell.

“Please, Talon… Enough,” Rowan pleaded.

“But I’ve only just begun,” Talon remarked coolly, tracing a Life symbol in the air with one hand. He waved his hand through it when completed, and it burst into musical notes and green light. From the light emerged a tinny green-skinned imp holding a golden fiddle, who cackled at Rowan before beginning to play.

Rowan ignored the imp and began her own Death spell, but it fizzled when the imp’s magical music reached the sparkling light that enveloped her. It was a Life trap, and it instantly reacted to the music, setting off a chain reaction of small explosions around her. Rowan stumbled backwards with each emerald flash, finally falling to one knee, disoriented. Shaking her head to clear her mind, she rose to her feet, only to realize the ground beneath her was glowing.

Looking down, Rowan discovered the source was a glowing symbol beneath her; it was a rune circle, an ancient form of magic. The magical etching of airborne symbols rendered this method of casting now obsolete, but it still had some uses, as Talon had somehow found out. Rowan cursed under her breath, pointing Terminus at Talon and ejecting a cloud of shadow at the pyromancer.

It never reached the target, however, as the shadowy orb hit an invisible barrier and instead spread around her, cloaking her in darkness. Rowan raised her hand and it began to glow a pale blue, before she swept it forward and sprayed frosty air all around her. It cleared up the air, and she could see Talon through a thin layer of ice. She clenched her fist; the ice shattered.

“What is this, Talon?”

“A trap, Rowan, made especially for you,” Talon answered, calmly walking forward until he was just outside of her containment barrier. “So you can watch, helplessly, as I reveal just how pathetic and weak your boyfriend is,” Talon chuckled, but his moment of sadistic pleasure was cut short by a troll’s battle cry. Talon swiveled just in time to see the thrown club coming at him, striking him squarely in the chest and sending the surprised Pyromancer flying several feet onto his back.

Kane leaned on his sword, his body still shrouded in tongues of flame. His violet eyes glared through the shroud at Talon as the Pyromancer rose with a groan. Slowly, the flames dissipated, leaving a lightly scorched Conjurer behind.

“I guess we’re still considering you her boyfriend, then?” Kane remarked with a grunt.


	10. Love and Jealousy Can Burn the Soul

“Can you get out of there, Rowan?” Kane said after dodging another fireball from his opponent.

“No. It’s sealed in all my magic,” Rowan answered, watching the battle helplessly. “I can’t even help you.”

“Alright,” Kane responded as he drew a Death symbol and a ghoul rose from the earth to attack Talon. “Just focus on keeping yourself safe, then.” Inhaling deeply as the ghoul filled him with some of Talon’s stolen vitality, Kane began to trace a Myth symbol in the air. It bloomed with golden light, surrounding Kane in a yellow aura.

“Safe from what, exactly?” Rowan asked, watching Kane sprint away to avoid another fire blast. “It’s not like he’s going to view me as a threat, now.”

Rowan was right; she wasn’t much of a threat to Talon trapped in there. But Kane had a feeling that -based on previous evidence of Talon’s newfound deviousness- he devised that trap for a reason other than nullifying Rowan’s power. Kane rolled to avoid an arrow from a fire elf, only to have another arrow catch him in the arm. It went clean through him like it wasn’t real, but he knew he was hit because his blood immediately felt like it was boiling. He cringed, falling to one knee and concentrating hard on the Myth symbol he was etching. When it was completed, he punched his fist through it.

Crying out in an archaic language, Kane called upon the legends of the ancients for aid. Before him a dark cloud began to swirl, gathering together to form a towering Cyclops. It narrowed its eye at Talon before swinging a stone hammer down on him. Talon rolled to avoid it, getting to his feet to send a firecat at the beast.

The Cyclops minion batted the feline aside like it was a minor pest and took another swing at Talon. The shockwave of the impact knocked Talon onto the ground, but the Pyromancer wasted no time in drawing another Fire symbol. As it formed the Cyclops raised the hammer, aiming to turn Talon into a splatter on the ground.

“Don’t kill him, Kane!” Rowan shouted from her bubble, beating her fist against the barrier. It forced her back. Talon may have been acting terrible, but that didn’t mean he deserved to die.

Talon had no plans on going down easy, though, and when the Fire symbol was completed it burst, but not into a ball of flame. Rather, the symbol exploded into a thick black cloud, which hung in the air for only a moment before rapidly expanding, covering the battlefield.

“Worry about him killing me, dammit!” Kane called out from the smog. Rowan couldn’t see anything or anyone, but she heard the hammer hit the ground, and hoped the worst did not happen.

For what seemed like minutes, there was silence, until Rowan heard coughing nearby. Alia slowly rose onto her knees, coughing hard and trying to wave the air around her clear.

“Alia, are you alright?” Rowan called out.

“Yeah, but my head hurts,” she responded. “Why is there so much smoke?” She took her cape and covered her mouth with it. Then she searched around, finding her sword and picking it up.

“Talon used a smokescreen spell, I think,” Rowan answered. “And I’m stuck in a bubble that prevents my magic from getting out, a kind of reverse shield. So you and Kane are on your own,” she explained.

“Thanks for the recap,” Alia shook her head and flexed her arms, readying herself. “Now to get back into the fray.”

* * *

Kane held his sword at the ready, alert for any sounds of movement around him. His Cyclops was beside him, holding the head of its hammer in one hand. They couldn’t see anything through the dense smoke; there was no way they could possibly accurately cast a spell at Talon.

“What’s gotten into you, Talon?” Kane shouted through the cloth of his cape, which he held bunched up over his mouth so he could breathe.

“What do you mean?” Talon replied. It sounded like he was behind Kane, but when the conjurer turned around he could see nothing, and felt his blade touch only smoke, which parted but then curled inward to reclaim the space.

“I mean everything: the library threat, the firebush, the burning note, the solitude, this battle,” Kane rattled off, keeping his voice raised so it at least sounded normal through the cloth. “You’ve been acting more like me lately, and I find it honestly annoying,” he continued. “So what’s the deal? You trying to prove you’re as good as me so Rowan will take you back?”

“No,” the reply was candid, concise. And it sounded eerily close. Kane whipped to his left, shooting off a stream of Death magic from his sword, but he hit nothing. “Instead, I am **proving** , right now, that I am better than you,” Talon continued, and his voice began to sound like it was coming from everywhere. “I am done hiding in your shadow, Darksword. I am tired of being outdone by some nobody son of a rice-farmer!”

A large ball of fire shot through the smog, hitting the Cyclops in the chest. The giant staggered back but shook it off, launching a bloodbat in return. The bat flew off in the direction of the shot, but after only a few sputters of chirps, they heard a small explosion.

“Gotcha,” Kane wove his own Myth symbol in the air, but it fizzled before he could finish it when that Fire Elf’s lingering flames surged in strength for just a moment. “What the hell are you on about, Talon?” Kane shouted, annoyed by his spell’s failure.

“Have you failed to notice, oh great one, how loved and honored you are, while my greatness is ignored?” Talon shouted back, this time sounding like he was somewhere else. Kane was growing quickly tired of this act.

“Please, regale me with your sorrowful tale,” Kane retorted, moving slowly through the smog. If he could keep Talon talking long enough, the smog could clear on its own, or he could pinpoint the Pyromancer. He tried to concentrate hard on sensing magical traces, searching for the magic Talon was using to manipulate his voice. But the Fire Elf strike still had his blood burning, and that made it hard to think clearly.

“Shall we begin with the most recent, then?” Talon responded from Kane’s right. “If you even remember Wysteria at all, of course,” Kane moved towards the sound of his voice, but it shifted again. “It was **I** who defeated Lord Bramble, reclaiming the Spiral Cup. But did I get any recognition for my deed? A picture on a wall, a mention in the papers? No, all I got was a thanks, then we went straight to the tournament again, and the grand celebration of, guess what, your victory! You were held in the limelight for winning a trophy, while I was **ignored** for saving Wysteria!”

Kane and his Cyclops minion continued to slowly make their way through the smog, but they weren’t getting far. Talon’s voice was leading them in circles.

“Not my fault they had their priorities seriously mixed up,” Kane declared.

“And then there was Mooshu,” Talon continued, ignoring Kane’s comment. “It was my plan that brought down the War Oni!”

“But I delivered the final blow, Talon,” Kane interrupted, turning to the left again. “In Mooshu, the final blow matters most.”

“If it wasn’t for me, you would have died!” Talon roared, his voice filling the air almost as densely as the smoke. “The War Oni would have slaughtered you! But you just stood there and soaked up all the glory like a sponge!”

“That’s **it!** ” Alia’s voice suddenly cut through everything, coming from somewhere behind Kane. “I have had enough of this!” The unmistakable static of a Storm spell followed, shortly followed by a flash of lightning and the rumble of thunder. Kane’s Cyclops shuddered, fearing the Storm magic to come.

“Oh no…” Kane recognized the spell even before the torrential downpour began, hastily drawing a Myth symbol with his sword. “I’m sorry, Rubius” he whispered as the spell was cast, and his Cyclops began to glow a bright white. The minion looked at him solemnly and nodded, accepting his fate. The light completely engulfed the minion before turning green and rushing at Kane as a stream of revitalizing energy. Kane knew the Cyclops would not survive the storm Alia had cast, so it was more useful to sacrifice him for renewed health. Besides, the animus of a Conjurer’s minion was always safely locked away within his soul. Rubius would be fine; it was Kane who was in trouble.

The tempest hit full strength and a sudden gust of wind nearly knocked Kane over. The rain stung his face like tiny needles and rattled on his armor, but he ignored that and focused more on trying to avoid the lightning striking down sporadically.

The smoke, however, was cleared in a matter of seconds, revealing the battlefield once more. Talon was crouching beside one of the massive roots at the base of his infernal tree home, which was the only thing still burning even as the storm raged. The storm had ripped the hood off his head, allowing his long red ombre hair to whip wildly around his face, giving the impression his head was as enflamed as his tree. Alia was standing firm and unwavering near what was once a pond but was quickly refilling, and Kane was crouched in the center of the battlefield, clutching his sword.

“Not helping, Alia!” Kane roared over the storm, as he felt himself start to sink. The torrential rainfall was turning the ashen ground into muck. Lightning crashed all around them, sending splatters of mud into the air.

“At least there’s no more smoke!” She yelled back, beginning another Storm spell as the last bolt of lightning slammed into the root Talon was hiding beside. The explosion sent him reeling. Alia’s spell surged forth shortly after, forming a vortex in the clouds overhead.

Talon hastily cast a glacial shield spell, a blue orb and a purple orb beginning to circle him as three lightning bats flew out of the vortex and assumed their triangle formation. Talon planted his feet and prepared himself for the stream of energy, which struck his Storm shield with a crackle.

While most of the energy was dissipated around him, some still rushed through his body, making him wince. Talon growled and spun his staff over his head, Fire symbol blazing. When he slammed his staff onto the ground the symbol burst and the ground cracked, small pillars of fire spewing out.

A moment later, the ground exploded as a gigantic form forced its way out of the earth, sending molten shards everywhere. It was an enormous hound of hell, with steaming fur as red as a smoldering coal and paws the size of Alia tipped with black claws. The hound took one look at Alia with its eyes aflame, before it tilted its head up and howled.

It was a deafening howl that sounded like a roaring industrial furnace, and sent a chill down Alia’s spine. She’d seen Talon use the heckhound spell before, but this time it seemed far more intimidating. The beast looked at Alia again before stepping back and opening its maw, spewing forth a blaze.

Alia managed to get a fire shield up in time, but the fire continued to rage around her shield even after the heckhound disappeared. It wasn’t long before it sputtered and died, and Alia cried out as she began to burn.

The casting of the spell distracted Talon, so he was surprised when he caught a glance of Kane charging him from the corner of his eye. While he managed to get his staff up to block Kane’s strike, there was enough force behind it that the blade still left a slice in his arm. Talon cringed at the bite of the blade, and something seemed to snap as he bled.

Suddenly dropping his staff, the Pyromancer spun around Kane, pulling out a knife as he did so. In a heartbeat Kane found his left arm behind his back, and a knife to his throat. Kane dropped his sword to the ground in the scuffle, the handle slick from the rain.

“How about I just kill you now, huh?” Talon snarled into Kane’s ear.

“You wouldn’t,” Kane whispered back. There was the thinnest trickle of fear in his voice.

“You think I won’t?” Talon growled, pressing the Dragonspyrian athame against Kane’s throat harder.

“Talon no!” Rowan cried out from her entrapment. She stepped towards the two, but the moment her foot left the spell circle it reacted, glowing fiercely and forcing her back. She tried to leave her body and ethereally stop them, but her ghostly form slammed up against the barrier, unable to get through. She had to return to her body in frustration, crying out again to Talon not to do it.

Her voice was drowned out by a melodious calling, however, as an angelic figure flew towards the two wizards. At first it looked like a seraph, but upon closer inspection this angel had black hair and was blindfolded, and carried a crescent blade and a scale. When she hovered beside the combatants, they both looked at her for a brief moment. She seemed to somehow look at them as well, before taping her scale with the sword. When it was struck the scale chimed, and two white flames came alive in the scale’s dishes.

Kane took the distraction as an opportunity and grabbed Talon’s knife hand, releasing himself and flipping Talon over onto his back in one fluid motion. He got no further though, as a vortex of light formed between them and then exploded, sending them flying apart.

“Esto termina ahora, Talon!” Miguel demanded as he flew onto the battlefield on his white Pegasus. Astride the magnificent steed, Miguel looked like a Spanish hero in his tan and purple-trimmed cavalry uniform and splendidly feathered musketeer’s hat. He jumped down from the horse, which slowly faded away once he had dismounted, and drew his saber. “This has gone beyond far, Talon, when you threaten Kane’s life.”

Talon picked himself up off the ground, disoriented briefly, but he straightened quickly and held out his right hand. His staff levitated off the ground, flying back into his waiting grasp.

“Ah, Miguel Spellblade. Decided to grace us with your presence, have you?” Talon remarked coolly, planting his staff firmly on the ground. “It’s about time I had a worthy opponent, I think,” Talon added as Kane got up off the ground.

“I’m not here to fight you, Talon,” Miguel replied, keeping his saber ready at his side. “I’m here to stop you fighting.”

“Oh, that’s a shame,” Talon smirked, shaking his head. “It would have been far more fun than fighting Kane.” The Conjurer growled at this statement, heading over to his own sword and picking it up.

“Alia, are you alright?” Kane called over to the still burning Diviner, who tried to stand up as the flames crackled over her.

“I’ll… be fine,” She hoarsely replied, resting on one knee. She tried to focus to cast another Fire shield but it failed to materialize as the flames crawled up her thighs and liked at her abdomen.

“Since you won’t fight me, I have a question for you,” Talon cut in; he sounded so cool and calm you’d almost think Alia wasn’t burning at that moment. But at the same time, he had that suave to his manner that suggested he was up to something. “Do you think Kane loves Rowan?” Miguel raised an eyebrow at this, before looking at Kane. Kane shrugged, frowning.

“I hardly see how this is-”

“Answer! The! Question!” Talon yelled, his knuckles turning white as he tightened his grip on his staff. Each word was punctuated with a tongue of flame spurting from his hair towards the sky, culminating in a rather lengthy blaze. His eyes were narrowed menacingly at Miguel.

“Very well,” Miguel replied calmly, not taking Talon’s rage-bait. “I think he does, and I think he lives in denial concerning it.” Kane glared at Miguel, mouthing ‘thanks asshole’.

“For the last time, Miguel, I do not love Rowan,” Kane snapped. Miguel had been bothering him for some time now about loving Rowan, and he was fed up with it. He didn’t have the time or desire to handle relationships. **This** was difficult enough.

“Prove it, then,” Talon dared, glaring at Kane now. The Conjurer’s violet eyes returned the expression.

“Excuse me?”

“Prove it, Kane. Prove you do not love Rowan,” Talon explained, and Kane raised an eyebrow.

“And just **how** would you like me to prove that?” Kane inquired.

“By letting her turn to ash,” Talon’s voice took on a dark-edged tone as he snapped his fingers, and a ring of fire burst to life around Rowan, mere feet away from her.

“What the hell Talon!” Miguel, Kane, Alia, and Rowan all shouted at once, as Rowan hastily began her shielding spells to protect herself from the ring of fire.

“Miguel, help her. I’ll finish this!” Kane snarled, whirling on Talon with his sword slashing at the Pyromancer. Talon stepped back and opened his palm, emitting a fireball that caught Kane in the chest and sent him flying back. His amulet kept him safe from the fire, but as he landed with a hard clank his body was briefly jarred.

Talon spun his staff over his head as Miguel moved to help Rowan, a Fire symbol forming. Rowan tried to convince Miguel her own shields would be fine but he was adamant about giving her an elemental shield spell.

“But you’ll be far too busy defending yourself!” Talon laughed manically, as the Fire spell blazed forth. At first, nothing happened; for a second, everything was quiet except the crackling flames. But then they all heard a roar, and several portals opened in the sky, revealing the source of the deafening noise.

It was a meteor shower, with huge superheated rocks plummeting towards them. Miguel quickly realized there was only one person incapable of defense right now, and that was Alia, who was still covered in fire. If a meteor hit anywhere near her…

Miguel apologized to Rowan, sprinting towards his other sister-in-law as he etched a Storm symbol above his head. By the time he reached Alia, a red orb floated around him along with a blue orb, and he stood before her with arms outstretched, planting his feet for the oncoming meteor.

Kane did his best to dodge the fiery missiles, seeking to hone in on Talon and end this. However, the Pyromancer closed his fist and Rowan shouted.

“Talon, seriously!” She cried as the flames slowly moved closer.

“It’s closing in on her, Kane,” Talon declared wickedly, as if he was enjoying himself. “Soon, she will be consumed by fire with no means of escape. Do you know the best way to stop the undead, Kane?”

“Burn them…” Kane replied softly, his face alight with realization. Permanently destroying the undead had been covered in one of his text books from freshman year at Ravenwood, but he hadn’t considered it worth major study. Now he wished he had.

“That’s right… **burn** them,” Talon growled the word ‘burn’ in a gravelly voice, sneering. “Would you do that to Rowan… would you let her burn to the ground?”

“Don’t listen to him, Kane!” Rowan shouted above the ring of fire, which was steadily burning around chest height, conveniently allowing her to continue viewing the battle. Too conveniently, in fact; it was becoming increasingly obvious this spell circle served as more than a trap. “I can handle it! I’ve got shields!” As she said this, the heat of the flames finally ate away her first shield, and it sputtered and died. She began another, feeling the full heat now. If she could sweat, she would be.

Talon chuckled, and Kane watched with a solemn gaze as Rowan cast her next shield. All three of them knew it, but only Talon was saying it; Rowan wouldn’t survive this. Not without some help. That fire was closing in on her, getting hotter with every passing second, and showed no signs of stopping. She could cast her shields for only so long, and with that rune circle keeping her in place she had nowhere to run; not even her teleportation could break through, as it was based on the same Necromancy the rune was built to contain. Kane reached under his chainmail, pulling out the amulet that protected him from Talon’s fire.

“You know there is only one way, Kane, to ensure she survives this,” Talon remarked as he watched the Conjurer stare at the amulet. Meteors burned through the air all around them, shaking the ground with their impacts, but both wizards just swayed to the shakes, paying little attention to them. “But can you make such a **loving** sacrifice?”

Kane furrowed his brow, anger welling inside him. He’d been forced to face his fear of death, he’d been forced to face his distrust of others, and he’d been forced to face his cooperation faults. But he had never been forced to face his emotional attachments to this degree. He tried to imagine a life without Rowan; he couldn’t, because with every imagined scenario that could have –but didn’t- include Rowan, he found himself hating them. A life without Rowan would be dull, boring, and would be a hindrance to his pursuit of further Necromantic mastery.

But basically, it would be like life before he met Rowan. And Kane found his gut revolting at the idea, and then revolting at that revulsion. He looked down at the amulet with disgust. It was a simple piece of faux silver jewelry, fashioned as a five-point star with a large red central orb. Nothing special and certainly not something Kane would have ever expected to become a symbol of love.

“Kane, don’t you dare!” Rowan shouted over the flames.

“Aww, look at the little thing, trying so hard to pretend to care for your safety,” Talon jeered, and it only served to make both Kane and Rowan snarl. “It’s almost convincing, isn’t it?” Talon chuckled, like he was watching a stumbling kitten.

“You disgust me, Talon.” Kane spat. “Right here, right now, you are more heartless than I have ever been. I have killed. Hell I’ve even outright executed. But I’ve never, ever laughed about it. None of us have, not even Rowan. She has more heart than you do right now, Talon,” Kane snapped, yanking the necklace off. “And so do I…” Kane looked down at the amulet briefly, then over to Rowan, who shook her head with fearful eyes. She knew what Talon was planning, and Kane was walking right into it. And the worst part for both of them was that he knew it too. “Don’t give it back, Rowan, because I won’t take no for an answer,” he declared, throwing the amulet to Rowan. It landed at her feet, creating a small splash of muddy ash. Kane looked away, preferring to keep his gaze on his enemy.

Talon gave a grave chuckle, a sound far too deep to be appropriate from him. Kane looked at the Pyromancer with grit teeth.

“Something funny?”

“Oh, nothing,” Talon responded honestly, smirking. “I’m just so delighted to see that even the great Kane Darksword can be weakened by love. I was like that, too. My love for others caused me to fear my power, and it made me weak. But now…” The final meteor crashed to the ground behind him, sending a heated shockwave through the air. The air rushed past Talon, making his hair dance wildly, but he was otherwise unaffected.

“Now I embrace the power within me, and I am stronger than ever,” Talon’s smirk turned into a sneer. “While you, you’ve just grown weaker with love. Love for a woman who cannot truly return that love.” Talon lowered his head, his wet hair hanging over his eyes. “And it will cost you dearly,” he menacingly smirked.

Kane spun his sword at his side, the blade leaving wisps of smoke in its wake, before leveling the tip towards Talon. His expression was no longer one of anger, or even frustration. Rather, he was completely collected, drawing on his training in Mooshu as a Samoorai and forcing himself to clear his mind of distracting emotions. He needed a clear, level head for the fight now, as the situation had suddenly changed.

Not only was Kane no longer properly protected from Talon’s flames, but he had discovered Talon’s true strength. Until now, Kane had been treating this like any wizard duel, and treating Talon like any clever opponent. But this trap revealed the true potential of the new Talon Skullflame, the true extent of his deviousness. Now he understood why Talon had never once seemed surprised by the events unfolding tonight.

He was never surprised because he had anticipated all of it: the duel, Alia and Rowan interrupting, Miguel arriving to stop them when he tried to slit Kane’s throat. He anticipated each of their actions and planned accordingly. Perhaps he even orchestrated them. But the grandest scheme revolved around the entrapment of Rowan. What at first seemed a sadistic torture device was now clearly the first step to a trap that ultimately reduced Kane’s ability to defend himself in this duel. They had willingly, naturally stumbled into the trap, because it was tailored specifically to them, each piece separately devised to play upon an aspect of the prey’s character. It was a game of chess in which Talon knew every move they would make, before they knew they would make it.

It was a head game unlike any Kane had ever faced; Kane was outwitted, and he knew the odds were against him, but he wasn’t about to let that stop him.

“We’ll see about that,” Kane said in a cold, unnervingly level tone. He wasn’t about to go down without a fight, no matter the odds.


	11. Fire and Ice

“Miguel, I’m home!” Tasha called out as she opened the door. She was very well dressed in a lovely icicle-blue dress, with long white sleeves and a starburst on the chest. It also had a long, thin purple gem hanging from a chain around her waist. It was one of her more wearable, bearable dresses.

Unlike the ones she was now carrying from hangers on her fingers. Many of them featured large, puffy skirts and/or corseted torsos. While she found them extremely uncomfortable, they were practically required at formal occasions in Marleybone.

“I got some lovely dresses for the Queen’s Royal Ball and the Constable’s Ball, and picked up a few other things as well,” she announced as she headed up the first flight of stairs, perplexed as to the lack of answer from Miguel. He was always prompt in pouring love on her upon her arrival. When she reached the second level of the mansion, she found it empty; except for Winston, their wooden servant.

This was odd, since Miguel spent this time of night either by the fire, playing the piano, or reading one of the many manuscripts inherited from his father at the lectern by the window. Yet Miguel wasn’t doing any of that. He wasn’t even there.

Before Tasha began searching for her husband, she noticed the glowing crystal ball on the dinning table. Setting her dresses down on the settee by the stone fireplace, she approached the crystal, gazing into its glowing depths.

Within the ball she could see fire everywhere, surrounding a group of wizards in a great ring. In the center of the ring was a massive tree that was somehow continually burning. She could barely make out the figures in the firelight, but one of them cast a Myth spell, an enormous Minotaur emerging from the resulting flash of light. A golden aura shifted off of the wizard, enveloping and strengthening the Minotaur as it hefted its double-bladed ax at a wizard clad in black. Another wizard cast a Storm spell, and a shark leaped out of a pool of water to attack the black wizard as well.

Tasha watched the battle go on, focusing hard on trying to make out the combatants, until the black wizard began a fire spell. From her vantage point his casting gave her a good angle, the light of his symbol revealing his face, and curly red hair she’d recognize anywhere.

“Winston! Find my staff!” Tasha called out, running up to the bedroom to confirm her suspicions. _I knew it! Miguel’s fighting with Talon!_ Tasha growled softly, angry that her husband would run off and put himself in danger like this, without even warning her!

She returned to the second floor to find Winston holding her staff, the Pillar of Ice. It was a wooden staff with a fur wrap in the middle of the handle, and didn’t look like much till one reached the crown. There, a cluster of indestructible Polarian ice crystals sat on a bed of fur, chilling the air surrounding them. Winston also had a set of blue armor she had not worn in some time. He had grabbed the armor as well, just in case.

“Thanks, Winston, but there’s no time to change,” Tasha said, grabbing the icy staff and disappearing in a puff of snowflakes.

* * *

“Stop protecting me and take care of yourself, dammit,” Kane snapped as Miguel placed another elemental shielding spell over him. His last elemental shield had been spent on a sunbird, and while secretly thankful for the quick response by Miguel, Kane’s pride was taking a hit with every shield cast.

“But he’s not attacking me,” Miguel commented back calmly as Kane’s Minotaur left Talon sprawled over a large tree root. Miguel weaved his sword through the air, forming a sparkling Storm symbol. When the spell was completed, his storm shark launched from the pond Alia had filled with her squall, plummeting towards Talon in a stream of electricity.

Talon barely put up his shield in time, the jaws of the beast closing around his protective bubble and its teeth sending jolts of power at the Pyromancer. As quickly as the jaws shut, the shark became immaterial, falling through the root and out of existence, leaving a lightning-scorched circle around Talon.

Standing up slowly, the wizard gripped his staff tight and pointed it at his opponents, launching fireballs. It was just a distraction though, as his furious face glowed from the light of his new Fire symbol.

When the spell was cast, a ball of fire shot forth, but quickly dropped to the ground below, landing far from either of his opponents. It exploded, spreading outward in a ring of flames. Both wizards backed away, and Talon smirked, planting his staff on the hard wood of the root and watching.

In only a second, the ring of fire shot upward, becoming a giant bonfire before Kane and Miguel. They both held their swords at the ready, unsure what this spell would bring forth. Slowly, a rising dark form became visible in the flames. It had apparently finished forming because the bonfire withered away, revealing the massive creature.

“You have **got** to be kidding me,” Kane muttered. It was a helephant, nearly twice the size of the Oni of Mooshu and clad in similar red and gold plated armor. The helephant brandished an infernal scimitar and stomped the ground, causing both wizards to lose their balance.

The helephant lifted its snout and blared like a trumpet, glaring at Kane. In that instant, Kane knew he was helpless. Not even Miguel’s elemental shield would hold that thing back.

But it wasn’t after him, suddenly turning and sweeping its scimitar towards Miguel. The sword left flames in its wake that sped towards him, and the sorcerer desperately tried to cast his shield.

The flames never reached Miguel, though, as they dissipated across the surface of a thick crystalline pillar of pure ice. It had grown suddenly from the ground without warning in an oddly good moment, cracking when the fire hit its frozen façade. The entire structure exploded shortly after, revealing a very well dressed, and very displeased, Tasha.

An Ice symbol formed before her as the helephant brought the sword into a backswing strike, being replaced by a rectangle of white light when she dug the tip of her staff in the ground before her. It was a large tower shield made of pure light, and met the helephant’s strike with explosive resistance.

The blast of fire pushed Tasha back several inches, but she kept a tight grip on her staff, the anchor of the shield, ignoring the heat wave that followed.

“Miguel,” Tasha shouted over the explosive blast.

“Yes, mi amor?” Miguel asked softly in the following silence.

“We **will** be discussing this later,” She looked over her shoulder at her husband, blue eyes holding nothing but contempt at the moment. Her voice had a charged undertone of anger. It was a tone he had heard thankfully few times.

“Sí, mi amor,” Miguel conceded, knowing that at this moment agreement was his safest option. A small part of him felt sorry for what Talon was about to have to endure.

The light faded, the tower shield disappearing as Tasha straightened to stand tall and proud, looking straight at Talon and planting her staff firmly beside her. Her hair was up in a tidy little bun, not her usual chin length sweep style, and she was in rather dainty flats that were now getting ruined in the ashy muck. She had truly gone into battle dressed like she was headed to the mall.

Talon raised an eyebrow, looking –for once- perplexed and surprised by the turn of events. Kane smirked. _Finally got him off his guard._

“What are **you** doing here?”

“Defending my husband, you hot-headed madman,” Tasha snapped back. Talon looked amused by this, but there was an underlying vein of scheming behind his amiable smile. He leaped down from the tall root, landing with the grace of a bird. He took a few steps forward; Tasha remained unmoving.

“Very well, then,” Talon brushed an unruly wave of red hair from his face. “If you are so intent on fighting me, Thaumaturge, then give me your best shot,” he dared, suddenly sweeping his staff upward. A ribbon of flame followed, quickly expanding into a wave of fire surging towards Tasha.

The Thaumaturge didn’t even flinch, however, casually raising her left hand and thrusting her palm forward. The air before her shimmered and shuddered, pulling what moisture she could from the air to form a small wall of ice between her and the flames. When the two forces met, the ice cracked and the fire died out, canceling each other.

“My turn,” Tasha muttered, spreading her arms out as she closed her eyes. An Ice symbol formed in front of her, filling the air with the sound of soft wind chimes. She spun her staff at her side once before bringing it over her head with both hands. When she brought the staff down it was with force, but the crystals did not break on impact.

Instead, the sound of cracking glass filled the air, ice swiftly forming across the ground and spreading towards Talon. Before he could react he found himself slipping on the thin layer, crashing to the ground.

Between them the ice began to build up as a twister of chilled wind whirled there, becoming a beautiful small hill. But then, without warning, threatening spikes of ice shot out of the hill, and a low rumble shook the earth. A moment later, a serpentine creature emerged from a previously unseen hole in the ice. It was an ice wyvern, a wyvern subspecies that sported no wings but two massive clawed hands and a furred ruff around its neck.

The wyvern regarded Talon for a moment, then scooted back to position itself for the attack. Talon scrambled on the ice, trying to get out of the way. While it was true he had an Ice shield active, this was still going to be painful. It was no use, however, and the wyvern plunged forward with an open maw.

Rather than devour Talon, though, the creature emitted a thick blast of frosted air at high speed. The result was a beautiful sight and created a melodious sound like a long note played from a clarinet.

For Talon though, the rush of cold wind lashed against his now flaring shield, biting into his defense and making the air around him considerably colder than he’d like. The wyvern kept at it for several moments, and for Talon it felt endless as the cold began to bite down to his very bones.

* * *

Rowan had been holding off well enough, managing to keep Talon’s ring of fire at bay by alternating Kane’s amulet shield with her own shielding spells. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to survive forever like this, but for now it was keeping her from being singed.

She was worried, though, about the safety of her sisters, with Alia burning and Tasha now joining the fray.

“Alia,” Rowan called out to her sister as the others fought. Alia had only recently been released from her cloak of flames, and had been lying there, groaning, as a sprite spell worked its magic to get her at least capable of standing without assistance.

“Yeah?” Alia replied, her voice at least sounding somewhat normal again. She got to her hands and knees, sighing as the emerald lights danced around her aching body.

“You okay?” Rowan asked.

“Yeah… it was just a really tough heckhound, that’s all,” Alia brushed it off, brushing a strand of hair aside. “What about you? You’re surrounded by fire.” Alia commented.

“Yeah, I know, and I’m managing, but I think I have an idea for stopping the fire and getting Talon under control,” Rowan explained, motioning around her. “But this trap is keeping me here. I can’t even teleport out. I tried.”

“What ya need me to do?” Alia asked, picking up her sword.

“I need to you get Professor Falmea,” Rowan replied. “I think she might be able to get this situation sorted out. Or at least get me in the action,” she added. She hoped all of it could be done, really, because she was growing very sick of watching Talon beat up everyone close to her.

“Alright, I’m on it,” Alia answered with a grimace, disappearing in a crackle of thunder just as Tasha’s ice wyvern began to freeze Talon.

* * *

The Commons was completely vacant when Alia teleported into the street. It was a stark reminder that they were doing this insane battle in the dead of night. Alia sighed, turning to the tunnel that led to Ravenwood.

As she walked down the tunnel, she became steadily more relieved that Rowan had asked her to do this. She was also glad that Headmaster Ambrose had seen fit to enchant the Commons and Ravenwood with a low-energy, continuous healing charm. It was a slow working magic, but right now with her aches and burning pains, she was thankful for any healing she could get.

By the time she reached the School of Fire, Alia had recovered enough to keep her balance easily and not look like a Diviner roast fresh off the spit. She was disappointed by a locked door, however.

“Thinking about it… I probably should’ve seen this coming,” She thought aloud, reminding herself it was night. Possibly even the middle of the night. She wasn’t really sure.

 _I don’t have to time to walk to Falmea’s home anyway, and by Bartleby I am not running anywhere like this!_ She thought to herself for a moment, leaning on the side of the school, before whistling.

A moment later, the shadows of the night began to shift, rippling and wriggling beside her in clumps of cloud-like darkness. Finally a large mass emerged, two slits opening to reveal feline eyes that gleamed in the moonlight.

It was a black panther sporting a special saddle on its back, a gift from Rowan to her sister for her sixteenth birthday. She loved her Bartholomew, with all his hefty, dark grace and soft fur. It was the best gift Rowan had ever given her.

She approached the panther and held his large head in her hands, scratching the sides of his face. He closed his eyes and seemed delighted.

“Alright boy, I need to get to Professor Falmea’s house, and fast,” She told him, heading over to his side and mounting the panther. “Rowan is counting on us, so let’s not let her down.”

Bartholomew growled in agreement and launched into a run.

* * *

Talon’s phoenix spell seemed to have little effect on Tasha, as her fire shield deflected most of the blast around her, leaving her in a protected bubble engulfed by flames. The air around her sparkled with snowflakes as she forced it cooler to fight the heat penetrating her shield. When the fire died out, she began another Ice spell, and it covered her body in a soft blue glow.

“Miguel, give me a boost,” Tasha ordered, as Kane distracted Talon with brief clashes of slashing sword and swinging staff.

Miguel complied readily, his Balanceblade spell covering Tasha in an aura of white light that fought with her Iceblade for dominance, resulting in a coruscating show of blue and white light around her. She could feel the power charging through her, but she waited. She had to strike at the right moment, had to charge her magic to just the right strength.

Kane’s troll leaped at Talon to club him, but the Pyromancer’s Myth shield sent troll and wizard stumbling backwards, blocking the strike. Talon reposted by sweeping his staff over his head, a tendril of fire snaking down from his infernal tree as a Fire symbol formed before him.

When the spell was cast, however, it resulted in Talon being engulfed in flames, as the tendril shot into him. He was noticeably cringing, but continued to sweep his staff in small circles, gathering more tendrils of fire. With each one his pain grew until he was nearly crying out.

And then he brought his left hand behind him, all of the fire on his body gathering in a great sphere of condensed combustion around his fist. Looking at Kane, Talon smirked, before throwing his fist forward and splaying his fingers.

From that open palm erupted the greatest plume of fire they had yet to see come from Talon himself, the ball of flame surrounding his fist becoming a engorged river of scorching heat, immolating everything in its path.

“Kane!” Tasha shouted, casting another tower shield. This time the spell became a ball of light, which she threw at the conjurer. It landed before him and sprung into a tall white wall of light, which Kane instinctively crouched behind. The blazing river hit the shield and divided, spewing streams of fire in every direction. Miguel’s elemental shield flared to life, wrapping Kane in a protective field.

But even with the two shields working in tandem, he could feel the oppressive dryness of the inferno, the air around him beginning to undulate like a desert mirage. It was becoming harder to breathe as the flames continued to wrap around his shielding, and when it finally all stopped and his shields died away, he took a sharp, wheezing breath and collapsed to his knees. His skin was blistering now, some of them having popped and beginning to ooze.

Talon’s smirk had grown more vile and smug, but it was wiped from his face when a hoard of locusts surrounded him, lifting him into the air and biting every inch of his body, tearing at clothing to get to the sensitive flesh beneath. They didn’t last long, though, as Talon ignited himself, sending the locusts spiraling to the ground in smoky trails.

“Nice try, Miguel, but your insects won’t last long against me!” Talon roared, sending a blast at the sorcerer, who deftly dodged the projectile.

“And neither will your clothes,” Kane teased back from his knees, smirking. “One more locust swarm and you’ll be indecent for sure,” he chuckled. He didn’t really care; he just wanted to get under Talon’s skin for once, like he’d been doing to them all night. Talon snarled and blasted at Kane as well, but this one hit its mark and sent Kane sprawling.

“Miguel, more power,” Tasha demanded softly, maintaining her ladylike poise and gracefulness. That had to be the one thing irking Talon the most about Tasha. Since her arrival, she had not moved more than five feet from the spot she had originally appeared, not even to dodge spells. Nor had she even batted an eyelid at his strikes against any of them. He was supposed to be the calm and collected one!

Miguel complied with his woman, divining her plan several minutes earlier. His Balance symbol blazed in the air before winking out, and he was surrounded by sparkling lights. The lights rose over him, before bolting over to his wife and raining down upon her. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, spreading her arms out as every sparkle of light seeped into her, giving her a rush of magical energy.

Talon anticipated her intentions just like Miguel, and already had begun a shielding spell.

“Oh no you don’t buddy,” Kane muttered under his breath, getting to his feet and weaving a Myth symbol with his sword. “You’re gonna take it all like a real man!” Kane shouted as he punched through the symbol and continued his swing, gathering mythical energy with it before his fist slammed into the ground.

It didn’t look like much of a strike, but the magic behind the hit did the rest, as the ground split in front of Kane’s fist. The crack paused for but a moment, then raced across the ground towards Talon, spires of rock shooting from the earth as the crack widened as it approached its target.

The resulting force of the earthquake made everyone but Tasha stagger, and it sent Talon onto his back. Spears of mythical energy shot out of the earth, colliding with his shield orbs and shattering them like glass. He was defenseless as Tasha finished her Ice spell, a chilling fog rolling into the sanctuary.

The fog covered and concealed everything, except a bright white light at the heart of it. The light dimmed quickly, however, and the fog crept back, gathering beneath the torso of a colossal barbaric figure with pale blue skin and an icicle beard. It was a Giant, like the ones from the tales of the creation of the universe, and it hefted a massive hammer of solid ice.

The giant looked around for a moment, before glancing up and noticing a horn of its helmet had begun to melt due to proximity to the blazing tree at the heart of the sanctuary. Grumbling, the giant blew at the tree; the flames froze instantly, the entire tree becoming an ice sculpture.

Talon looked up at the massive beast, groaning. The giant’s presence was already causing the entire environment to drop several degrees. A Fire symbol flared before him, turning into an orange aura of strengthening heat as he cast the Fireblade. It was the only way he would stay warm in the coming blizzard, since Kane would just remove his shields again if he tried. His spell drew attention from the giant, however, who huffed at a Pyromancer in his presence and swung his hammer above his head.

“Always with the hammers,” Talon grumbled as he collected himself into a ball, trying to maintain body heat as the giant brought his hammer down, and a torrent of frigid air followed.

When the attack ended, Talon was nearly frozen in place. An aggravated growl grew into a roar of fury as he found himself barely able to move. He streamed fire through his body, forcing the ice to weaken until he broke free, surrounded now by a twister of flame.

“I have had enough of this!” He declared, Fire symbol flaring before him. He slammed the butt of his staff into the ground, putting all his fury and frustration behind the strike. The spell symbol exploded and the orange aura around him siphoned off into the blast, which swiftly expanded into a giant ring of scalding flame. It radiated outward from Talon with the explosiveness of a bomb, catching everyone but the Pyromancer in its mighty blast.

* * *

Truthfully, Alia didn’t have a clue where Professor Falmea’s house was. She suspected she lived in Firecat Alley; because, well, why wouldn’t she? But beyond that, Alia was clueless. So she did what any woman would do. She decided to ask for directions.

“Alright, Bartholomew, you flush ‘em out, and I’ll catch one,” She whispered to her panther, as he slinked across the ground towards a firebush, his low posture doing little to hide his bulk.

It seemed to hide his bulk from the creature he was stalking however, as nothing moved until the panther pounced upon the bush. There was a yelp as a yellow streak shot out of the bush, and Alia pointed a finger at the blur. A bolt of lightning faster than the creature crackled out of her finger and electrocuted the prey.

The creature was a Fire Elf, a tiny thing Bartholomew could eat in merely two bites. It was shuddering from the electricity running through its body, but Alia knew it would survive. She remembered fighting them often many years ago when Wizard City was rife with troubles. These were hardy creatures and she had merely stunned the Elf.

“I need to know where Falmea lives, and you’re the only things out this time of night so I’m stuck asking you,” Alia informed the shuddering Elf, who frowned. “So, where’s her house?”

The Fire Elf jerked his head, but Alia couldn’t tell if it was shock-induced convulsions or directions. He kept twitching until Alia ordered him to show her the way, and it became clear she wasn’t getting it. Trying a new tactic, the Fire Elf’s right arm shot out, shaking and twitching but repeatedly pointing towards a single house across the lane, the windows still lit by firelight.

“Oh… well that was easy,” Alia commented, smiling at the Elf. “Thanks, and sorry about the bolt,” she apologized, making her way towards the house. He gave a humph before recovering and hopping off, but not before leaving a little present in Alia’s backside.

“Little bastard!”

* * *

Talon surveyed the destruction around him, a satisfied smirk on his face. The area was littered with small blazes, burning softly wherever flammable material still remained. His opponents lay scattered about, also burning from the lingering magical flames of his spell.

They were lucky though to just be burning from the after-flame. They would have been incinerated if not for Tasha’s quick-thinking casting of a legion shield, protecting them with walls of bright white light. Tower shields were, however, a universal shielding spell, designed to protect against all forms of magic equally and therefore lacking the specialization of a Fire shield. It didn’t help that Pyromancy specialized in shield-breaking, causing repeated and lingering magical damage that often ate through or outlasted shields. Tasha’s actions saved them from initial incineration, but would not hold back the burns to come.

Talon moved towards Tasha, who lay on her back, staff some feet away. She was groaning as she felt the heat of the flames searing into her. Talon also groaned, at one point stumbling as he approached. He was wounded from the rapid, harsh strikes they had delivered, but not out. A Fire symbol crackled and flickered before him, and a green light began to spin between the wizards, linking them together.

“You’ve caused enough trouble, girl,” Talon grumbled, kneeling next to her. A soft green aura began to wash over his body. “Now it’s time for you to be useful,” he added, as the spell completed itself and Tasha cried out in agony. The cloak of fire surrounding her body grew in strength, while Talon’s healing aura pulsed with power.

“Talon, you’ll kill her!” Rowan cried out from her magical cage. She was the only one unharmed by his spell, being the one most protected from Fire magic. She had poured all her shields into protecting herself from the tsunami of flames.

“I won’t, and you know that,” Talon replied curtly, looking towards the Necromancer. “Her Thaumaturgy imparts remarkable physical and magical resilience. She’ll survive,” he said, beginning to stroll between the three burning wizards. “I’m surprised to hear you are afraid for their lives, however,” he looked at Rowan again with a smug expression. “I thought Necromancers were supposed to conquer fear. Besides, can’t you just stop by the underworld and pay a visit every Sunday or whatever?” Talon shrugged. “I don’t see how it would really matter then, to you, whether **anyone** lived or died.”

“Their **happiness** matters to me, Talon,” Rowan replied coolly. “And they wouldn’t be happy **dead**.”

“What makes you so sure about that?” Talon asked, heading towards Kane slowly. “Wouldn’t death be a release from the pain and suffering of this world?”

“Except the underworld has its own troubles, Talon,” Rowan explained. “Depending on your actions in life, there could be paradise, or unimaginable suffering.” Talon grinned broadly at this, an eerily inappropriate grin.

“Shall we see, then, which eternity he will face?” Talon said, bending down and lifting Kane onto his knees. He held the conjurer upright by his collar, unconcerned by the flames licking at Kane’s body. Talon then dropped his staff, holding his right hand open. His athame hovered off the ground some distance away and flew to him, the handle connecting with Talon’s open palm comfortably. He held the dagger up for a moment, caressing the edge with the index finger of the hand in which he held it. Seemingly satisfied with the edge’s sharpness, he carefully brought the blade to Kane’s exposed neck.

“Talon!” Rowan screeched. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing; Talon was actually going to kill him! _I have to break this thing,_ she thought, throwing a barrage of Death magic all around her. Each blast of shadow hit the dome and burst into a cloud of smoke, lingering for a moment before dissipating. Talon looked over Kane’s head to sneer at Rowan’s efforts, obviously amused. Rowan stopped when the smog became too much and blocked her view. When it faded away, the dome still glimmered gently, untouched. She cursed. “Don’t do it Talon! He doesn’t deserve to die!”

“Doesn’t he?” Talon asked. She couldn’t see Kane’s face, since his back was to her, but she could feel his fear. “I think that’s all a matter of **perspective,** don’t you Kane?”

Kane was unresponsive, violet eyes half-closed in a daze from the searing pain. He was sitting just a step above unconsciousness. Talon bent down, whispering into Kane’s ear.

“I wonder, Kane, how she’ll react when you die. Don’t you?” Talon sneered as he spoke, glancing at Rowan. She was shuddering, her knuckles white from the death grip on her bony staff. “Do you think she’ll show as much love for your life, as you did for her unlife?” Kane glared at Talon through the veil of flames, but felt too weak to move. He was scared. By Bartleby he was so terrified of Talon right now, as his hair melted into the veil of flames surrounding Kane, only his face differentiable from the surroundings. Like a Fire elemental with an unnatural human visage, Talon’s face just didn’t belong where it was. Not in the fire, not on Talon Skullflame. It was the face of a killer. And for a chilling moment, Kane realized he was seeing what every minion and soldier had seen before the Saviors slew them. They were labeled heroes, but in the eyes of their victims… _it’s all a matter of perspective._ Kane chuckled at the thought, which sounded more like a coughing chortle.

He wasn’t about to let Talon see he was terrified. He would never, ever let that wretched, insane boy have the satisfaction of knowing he had succeeded. That he had turned the great hero Kane Darksword into a victim.

“Stoic to the end,” Talon muttered, straightening to look at Rowan. “I would tell you to say goodbye, Rowan… but I suppose for you, it’s more like ‘see you later’, isn’t it?” She cried out and shot Ice and Death magic frantically against her prison, but each shot was ineffective and left her concealed in clouds of snow and shadows.

She thought she heard a soft cracking when her last blast hit, however, and with renewed vigor grabbed Terminus in both hands and swung. The staff connected with the dome of energy, a large crack forming. It glowed fiercely, piercing the shadows of her spells. Rowan grinned and swung again, but this time was shoved back with incredible force, knocking her off her feet. She growled as the crack resealed itself.

“Talon, I swear, if you kill him, you will regret it!” Rowan howled from the ground, the smoke from her spells beginning to clear. 

“Oh my, Rowan, what feisty words, for one so helpless,” Talon mocked, his tone dark and venomous. He looked down at Kane, smirking. “She’ll see you later, bud,” he slid the Dragonspyrian dagger across Kane’s throat, releasing his collar. Kane teetered on his knees, before Talon stepped to one side and gently pushed the back of his head. The conjurer fell face first into the ash at Talon’s feet and didn’t move.

* * *

Dalia Falmea had been reading by the fire when Alia arrived, and was curious as to why a student came to her at the dead of night for anything. When Alia mentioned Talon, however, she was allowed in without further question.

Alia had never been in Professor Falmea’s home before, but wasn’t all that surprised to see a plethora of flame themed decorations and candles, or the domination of red and orange in the color scheme. Falmea had her sit down by the fireplace to explain the situation. She seemed genuinely concerned about Talon as Alia spoke about what was going on tonight. Alia purposely decided to leave out the cause of it all, feeling that was a matter too personal for the professor to know.

Professor Falmea was quick to grab her wand when Alia reiterated Talon’s words during the smokescreen. Her wand was a startlingly simple stick of gnarled wood with an orange orb at the top that emitted a candlelight glow, but Alia could feel its power from where she sat.

“I was afraid this would happen one day. We must hurry,” she stated, and Alia stood up swiftly.

“But wait, aren’t you going to put on armor or something?” Alia looked over the Professor, who even this late in the evening wore her sultry, flame-patterned red dress.

“There is no need for that,” Falmea replied, looking Alia over now. “Can you perform healing?”

“Yes,” Alia wasn’t sure if she liked the Fire Professor looking her over. There seemed to be an air of displeasure in her eyes.

“Good, your friends will need it. Now, come with me,” Falmea grabbed Alia’s hand and stood in front of the fireplace.

“Wait, don’t you need me to show you the-” she was interrupted by the roar of flames rushing out of the fireplace to engulf them. The flames wrapped around both and sucked them into the fireplace, where they disappeared.


	12. Fighting Fire with Fire

Rowan was on her hands and knees, trying to get to her feet. She had looked up, however, in time to see Kane killed, and now found herself unable to continue to rise.

He had done it… he had actually killed Kane. Tears began to crawl down her face; since she was undead, though, they were more ectoplasmic than watery, and left yellow-green streaks. Now she knew why the ring of fire surrounding her was so low to the ground… he wanted her to watch.

 _Talon is dead._ She thought to herself, grabbing a fistful of dirt. It was a thought with double meaning to her, as she felt the intense, raging desire to send him after Kane. But the fact that Talon -a man she had known for over a decade- had killed someone meant **that** Talon was already dead, as far as she was concerned. The man standing over Kane’s body victoriously, his knife shimmering with a thin line of blood on the edge, looking over his shoulder at her with a vile sneer, was **not** Talon Skullflame.

Closing her eyes and gripping Terminus tightly, she rose with the stiff slowness of a corpse fresh out of the grave. When she opened her eyes again, Talon was standing outside the ring of fire that surrounded her.

“What is wrong with you?” Rowan snapped with unhidden anger. “My Talon would never kill someone intentionally.”

“Ah, but I’m not **your** Talon anymore, am I?” The Pyromancer walked calmly through the ring of fire, the flames parting at his presence. “I’m my own man now. I’m done worrying about other people, their feelings or safety. My only concern now is myself.”

“How very Kane-esque of you,” Rowan snarled, and Talon’s entire body blazed at the suggestion.

“I am nothing like him! I am better than him! I killed him!” He roared.

“That’s what you think,” Rowan roared back, “but he didn’t lock you away and leave you powerless. He fought you man-to-man, without dirty tricks and schemes to give him the upper hand. If you’re so much better, why don’t you let me out of here? We’ll see just how good you really are,” she sneered. Talon smirked, backing away from her prison and into the fire ring.

“You really think you’ll get out with your mind games, Rowan?” He asked over the crackling flames. “I put you in there for a reason. I want you to watch, as I destroy everything you claim to hold dear. I want to see how long it takes before you truly start to feel. How deep does the blade have to go to find your heart?”

Rowan narrowed her eyes, her anger at his behavior welling up to uncontrollable proportions. He killed Kane just to torment her! Even in the death-accepting philosophies of Necromancy, torture and needless death were sinful, and Rowan was going to do everything in her power to make sure he paid dearly for his transgressions. Letting go of her rage, she once again went into a furious flurry of spell-flinging, trying to break free of her trap.

He cackled, a sound that actually sounded more like a banshee’s laughter than anything living. He stopped, though, when the ring of flames suddenly disappeared.

* * *

“-way…” Alia finished her sentence from Falmea’s living room at the entrance to Talon’s sanctuary, stunned that they were now standing before Talon’s entry wall of flames. Apparently, Falmea already knew where Talon’s home was.

She also had no trouble getting through the entrance, flicking her hand nonchalantly. The wall moved away like a curtain, and she strolled through like it was a day at the park.

She surveyed the area, her flaming ombre up-do hair swaying as she moved. Talon was standing by a ring of fire, which surrounded a girl Falmea recognized as Rowan Skulldreamer, the Death School teaching assistant. His other friends were sprawled around the sanctuary, slowly burning. She and Alia stood several yards away from Talon and Rowan, neither of which had noticed them yet.

“By Bartleby,” Alia murmured, looking at the destruction and the state of her friends and sister. Falmea shook her head.

“Just like his father,” she muttered, which got a surprised look out of Alia. She tried to ask but Falmea cut her off with a splayed hand. Waving her wand towards Talon’s three victims, small orange sparkles trailed behind it before being cast out over the battlefield. Wherever they touched the flames nearby died, quenched by her spell. “It is safe to heal them now.”

“I’m gonna need help healing them, though…” Alia proclaimed softly, unsure just how she was going to manage to get all three of them back to at least stable health. She was never more than the backup healer of the group, helping when Talon couldn’t handle the workload. It would take a good few sprites before anyone would be able to move without pain, especially with that lingering magical fire. But what could she do?

 _There are the unicorns from Unicorn Way, they might help,_ she thought. But then, she’d never actually **seen** a unicorn in Unicorn Way, and had no idea where to start looking. Then she remembered Talon’s first home, a cottage on a small wooded isle. She remembered him talking long ago about having a unicorn living in his grove. That unicorn had spurred an interest in the creatures that had evolved into breeding miniature unicorns as both a hobby and source of light income. _Maybe she is still there?_ “I’m going to go to his wooded cottage. There’s a unicorn that lives there, and she might be able to help.”

“Good idea,” Falmea replied. “Hurry, as soon there will be a lot of fire around here.”

“Got it,” Alia replied as Falmea turned towards Talon and Rowan, waving her wand. Alia disappeared in a crackle of thunder and the ring of fire ceased to burn, ending Talon’s wicked laugh.

He looked at the ring, confused for a moment, before looking around and finding Falmea standing amongst the ashes, wand pointed at the young wizard.

“I’m sure I taught you better than this, Talon,” Professor Falmea chided him, as Talon extended his hand and his draconic staff flew to him. He held it in both hands, pointing the crown at his professor.

“Hello, Aunt Falmea,” Talon chuckled. “Come to see how much better I’ve gotten?”

“This ends here, child.”

* * *

Alia stepped past the charred Spiral Door of Talon’s wooded cottage, gazing at the destruction she saw. There were burnt stumps where beautiful trees once stood, every inch of grass was scorched, and the bridge that crossed the stream bisecting the property was destroyed. The cottage itself was in shambles, the stone foundation all that remained intact. There were some sections of the stone wall that remained standing, but they were blackened and their stability questionable.

Luckily for Alia, the unicorn she sought did not inhabit the ruined cottage. Rather, there was a small grove upon a hill where a ring of trees once surrounded a circle of cobblestones. Now, of course, the trees were all burned to the ground, large logs of charcoal haphazardly laying everywhere.

Amongst the ashes and charcoal remains was the majestic creature. Its soft, almost luminescent white body stood out in stark contrast to the environment, along with the aquamarine mane and tail that rustled in the gentle breeze. The unicorn was moving between the trees with a slow, depressed posture, occasionally lowering its head to tap its horn on the ground. The horn looked like a spear of peridot gemstone, and would glow for a moment before a small sprout would rise up from the ashes and bloom into a small, hardy wildflower.

Alia moved towards the hill slowly, depressed by the sight. The unicorn looked so sad at the death of its forest, and was trying to speed up the recovery process with the magic of Life. It was touching, and Alia felt sorry for the creature. To be betrayed in such a way by a wizard you had lived with must have hurt the unicorn deeply.

 _He is not himself; I do not blame him_. The words were spoken by a soft and gentle voice in Alia’s mind. She stopped at the base of the hill, looking at the unicorn. It raised its head and looked back at her.

“We need your help, Pure One,” Alia stated, addressing the unicorn with the most respectful title she could think of, remembering from her classes that one should always treat a unicorn with respect. “My friends need healing, and I am not powerful enough in the ways of Theurgy to heal them all.” She bowed to the unicorn, looking at her boots instead of at the graceful creature.

She could hear the soft clop of hooves as the unicorn made its way through the remains of the grove, coming down to her. _Injured by him… I will help you,_ the unicorn told her within her mind, nuzzling her to get her to stand. _Take me to the injured so we can begin._

* * *

When Alia and her unicorn companion returned to the battlefield, it was once more littered with flames. The battle of Pyromancers was well under way, with each combatant flinging a flaming creature at the other in rapid succession. Their innate fire resistance left Alia wondering just what the point was in this duel; they certainly weren’t doing much damage.

Alia glanced over to Rowan to check on her, but found her sister contained in a dark dome of shadowy magic. She could hear Rowan’s rage from outside, and those cries of anger were all that escaped the barrier. But at least she was safe.

The same could not be said for the others, however, as they were caught in the crossfire between the Pyromancers. At any moment, one of them could be hit by an errant fireball. And the heat between the two combatants had the entire field shimmering; it would have been steaming if there was still moisture in the air. She looked to Professor Falmea, who noticed her return and took quick note of the situation.

Until now, Alia had been wondering how Falmea was fighting Talon in a dress so tight that it barely gave her legs room to move. The bright orange tails of the professor’s dress no longer just **looked** like fire; they **were** fire. Falmea –seeming to Alia to be unusually uncaring about her dress being enflamed- gracefully floated to one side, seeming to glide above the ground on a cloud of flames to come to rest at Talon’s front door, redirecting his blasts. 

Alia and the unicorn took their opportunity to rush to the fallen, the unicorn leaving a trail of grass and flowers in its wake. The creature was gathering its magical energies around itself in preparation to heal the fallen, and the magic rippled out of the unicorn to sprout new plant life from underneath the layers of ash.

Alia wanted to heal Kane first; he was the only one face-down in the ash, and the closest of the three injured to the pyromania occurring. But she knew the better idea was to get Miguel in top condition before anyone else. Miguel also had a healing spell at least as effective as hers, so having him back in order was essential. As the unicorn stooped its majestic head to touch Miguel’s body with its horn, filling the Sorcerer with a rush of Life energy to stabilize him, Alia began the sprite summoning spell.

* * *

Talon knew Falmea’s plan when she moved to his front door. She was trying to redirect the battle away from his previous victims. But he didn’t care about them anymore; they were no longer a threat to him, assuming they were even still alive. Falmea was the only thing on his mind now.

“You are still as amateur as the day you entered school,” Professor Falmea taunted him in her consistently smooth, sultry voice. “Have you learned nothing?”

“I’ll show you amateur!” Talon began another Fire spell, flames dancing around him as the symbol formed. When it burst into action, a great twister of fire plummeted down from Talon’s burning tree, rushing at the pyromancer. He raised his staff with both hands and then spun in place, and the twister followed his staff. When he came full circle, he thrust the staff towards Falmea.

The blazing tornado obeyed his command, shooting forward towards the professor. It suddenly reared back when it neared her, sprouting great fiery wings and revealing the phoenix within.

Dalia seemed unimpressed, her own Fire symbol forming as the phoenix reared back to drench her in its oppressively blazing breath. While the great bird roared out its fire, Falmea calmly watched as the red orb of her Fire shielding spell flared to life. It was a far more powerful shield than any prior opponent had ever conjured to combat his flames. No dome formed around her, no shimmering light danced around her. The orb before her stopped directly in the path of the flames and gorged itself on them, absorbing all heat and light into itself, leaving Dalia completely untouched.

* * *

Alia watched as the unicorn touched Miguel with its horn, bathing the sorcerer in bright white light. Her sprite was busy working a slow healing, but the unicorn’s rush of life was just what was needed to jumpstart Miguel again and douse the magical flames that remained. The unicorn moved on to Tasha as Miguel blinked and sat upright.

“Lo que está sucediendo?” Miguel asked in his native tongue, leaving Alia blinking for a moment as well. Miguel blinked some more before noticing it was Alia kneeling beside him. “Sorry… um… what’s happening?”

“Professor Falmea is duking it out right now with Talon, and I’m trying to get you lot healed up before it gets way too hot for anyone except them to handle,” Alia explained quickly. “I have Talon’s unicorn friend helping me, and I’ve got a sprite working on you. But I need your help getting Tasha and Kane healed up good. You get Tasha, I’ll get Kane.” She didn’t explain any further, and didn’t need to as the night sky lit up from Talon’s phoenix spell behind Miguel. He got up quickly, rushing over to Tasha just as the unicorn completed its work.

* * *

“Have you forgotten everything I taught you?” Falmea asked a stunned Talon. He had anticipated she would shield herself, but Falmea hadn’t even broken a sweat from the heat of his flames. That shield had absorbed everything from his attack and winked out of existence, his attack nothing more than a blown out candle. “It is not the strength of one’s emotions, but the strength of one’s discipline over their emotions, that determine the better pyromancer,” she reiterated. “You must commune with your burning passion for strength, but you must not give into the temptation it brings,” Falmea twirled her wand before her casually, slowly drawing a large Fire symbol.

“Those who fall to temptation, who are claimed by the alluring flames of passion’s fire, who let it burn away everything else within them, are Pyromaniacs,” she continued, the Fire symbol completed. “And they are **always** the weaker Pyromancer.” Falmea’s entire body immolated and she raised her hands above her head, shooting a plume of fire into the air above her. The conflagration grew as wide as a thundercloud before form could be made out within. The flames solidified into dark red draconic wings, the head, neck and body following a moment later.

Falmea lowered her hands as the flames subsided, leaving a giant Fire dragon behind. The great beast flapped its wings, creating a harsh gust of wind that caused nearby fires to leap with renewed life. While a barely a twentieth the size of the Dragon Titan, whose head alone was the size of the cavernous headmaster’s office in Dragonspyre, it was still three times the size of the wizard caught in its glare. Landing before Talon, it quickly opened its maw, wasting no time in bathing him in the flames that lay waiting in its gullet.

Talon had not prepared himself to face an opponent proficient in Pyromancy when he had planned this evening. As a result, he had failed to anticipate a critical aspect of duels between Pyromancers; an aspect he remembered quite suddenly when his Fire shield failed to activate. Instead the stream of fire rapidly mutated into a howling, frigid gale less than a yard in front of him, pelting Talon with pellets and shards of ice. A spinning, shimmering multi-layered mandala of triangles sprouted forth from the meeting point of the two elements, revealing the Fire prism.

And the dragon stopped only briefly, inhaling to prepare for the second wave of its assault, belching white hot flames once more. This time the Fire shield did react, but the protective field was decorated by rapidly generating bright blue mandalas that converted any heat that pierced the shield into another chilling blast. She had trapped him, laying down multiple cloaked Fire prisms while he was blinded by his desire to best her. And now the dragon fire was going to activate each one of them, with no way of knowing how many she had laid.

 _This is not the way,_ the unicorn’s voice softly echoed in Alia’s mind as Talon fell to the ground, cowering from the sharp shards of ice that were cutting into his clothes and flesh. She watched him fall, seeing the pain on his face as he tried to protect it. A part of her raged at the boy, feeling a satisfactory vengeance in his suffering. But another part of her -the part that allied with the unicorn- pitied him, feeling a pang in her heart as he collapsed to the ground.

“Have you had enough, Talon Skullflame?” Falmea asked calmly, watching him freeze with a remorseless gaze.

“No…” Talon wheezed, getting back to his knees after the dragon had dissolved into mist. He propped his staff up, using it to slowly pull his shaking body off the ground. _So… cold…_ “No… I am more powerful than you… all of you… better than all of you… must prove… prove greatness…” a Fire symbol began to form before him but his arms too weak and shaky to etch it well. The spell symbol turned to ash, falling to the ground. Talon cried out in agony as the flames of the Fire dragon pulsed with renewed strength and another cloaked prism reacted, his body at the center of a ring of mandalas that cascaded down his body, changing the flames to biting frost as they went. 

_What do you mean?_ Alia thought back to the unicorn, as Talon once again failed to cast a spell. The frost was still eating into him, and he grimaced with each muscle he moved.

 _In this state, he will keep fighting until he is dead,_ the unicorn explained, and its sadness was clear in the mental projection. _His rage must be calmed if he is to surrender._

 _And how could we do that?_ Alia asked. Sure, the unicorn’s suggestion sounded reasonable enough, but how were they going to calm a Pyromaniac? The unicorn’s bright blue eyes stared at her as she thought. _Wait a second!_ She was sure she recalled a spell for that sort of thing, but she had long ago relegated it to the ‘useless spells’ section of her brain. Snapping her fingers, a white block of light formed before her, roughly the size of a tome. It became an actual tome a moment later; one Alia quickly began to flip through, looking for the spell.

“Ah ha!” She proclaimed, finding the calming spell in her spell book. _But I’ve never actually used it. What if I screw it up?_ She wondered, and unintentionally transferred this worry to the unicorn. The harmonious voice answered her immediately.

 _You brought me here to help. So we will all help you, by joining you in the Song of Tranquility,_ the unicorn told her, lifting its head to neigh. The noise roused a group of miniature unicorns from their hiding places. They were Talon’s herd of miniature unicorns, bred to a pet-friendly size from the much larger creature standing beside her, and they had all hidden behind charcoal logs to escape his fiery wrath. Now that the unicorn had called them out with a purpose they emerged, five small unicorns coming together to sing, little horns glowing with energy.

Alia could hear all their voices inside her mind, as they all poured their Life magic into her to strengthen her spell. Glancing one final time at her spell book to double check, she snapped her fingers again. The book disappeared, replaced by Alia slowly etching a shimmering Life symbol with careful motions.

As she drew the magical rune, she began to hum a soft, lullaby-like tune. The closer she came to completion, the more she raised her voice, until she was no longer humming but singing, loud and true. The Life symbol chimed and burst, filling the air all over the sanctuary with shimmering and flashing green light that projected her soft song all around them.

* * *

> _I cannot stop… I WILL NOT STOP!!_
> 
> _The inferno burned through him, leaving nothing but furious flames within his mind. The cold bit deep into his flesh, chilling his blood, but his mind fought back, remaining inflamed. His inner rage kept his organs warm, staving off death through infernal will._
> 
> _But still the cold crept in. In the end, his mental fortitude could not hope to match the strength of a fire dragon’s mutated magic. He could feel his muscles tightening, his vessels constricting to preserve heat. Breathing was becoming physically and mentally painful. For a moment the flames within his mind shrank, only to surge forth to consume his mindscape in fire once more._
> 
> _NO! I have burned my weakness away! I will never be outdone again!!_
> 
> _The inner fire cleared the cold from the edges of his thoughts as he focused on his adversary. Yes, he could still best her, if only he could focus, and think!_
> 
> _“You have proven your strength…” The voice rang through his head above the white noise of roaring flames. It was soft, sweet, and sensual, somehow overriding the crackling flames, as though someone was whispering right into his ear in the middle of a bonfire. Talon turned around in vain, knowing that everything around him was only heat and flame. He was alone within his mind; fire his only company._
> 
> _NO!!_
> 
> _“You do not need to fight anymore…” The voice was followed by a gust of wind parting the flames behind him. The wind carried leaves in its wake, which ignited when the inferno tried to reassert itself and reclaim the lost territory. Talon turned to gaze through the opening in the sea of flames._
> 
> _In the parted space he found a majestic white steed with an aquamarine mane staring back at him, a two-foot long horn of peridot crystal flashing in the firelight. The creature was familiar to him, but he couldn’t place it. Searching his memories only produced flames, rage, and desire. His eyes moved up when the unicorn tossed its head to the side, revealing a woman astride its back. She was thin and muscular, clothed in a heavy military uniform but showed no signs of heat fatigue._
> 
> **_HER!!_ **
> 
> _The flames rapidly expanded, reaching out to lash at the woman on the unicorn. Rage welled up inside him and manifested as a wave of flame that barreled towards them._
> 
> _And yet, simultaneously, he feared for her safety. He summoned the fiery wave and fought to hold it back, but his control of the fire was barely a parcel of the moon’s control of the sea. The merciful part of his mind was a softly glowing ember in a hellscape of fire; scarcely present and equally uninfluential._
> 
> _To his surprise it mattered little as the firelight of the coming wave glimmered off the peridot horn, igniting a repost of magical wind that cleaved the wave in two. In the wake of the wave a group of miniature unicorns approached, their horns glimmering as the wind picked up, lashing out and forcing back the flames around him._
> 
> _“It is time to rest, Talon,” Alia spoke, her voice echoing in his mind. As the fires receded a forest began to materialize in its place, ashen and smoldering but distinctly familiar. This was the home of his thoughts, his spirit, his individuality; his very being resided here, in these psychological woodlands overtaken by the burning desire for revenge and notoriety. “You have done more than enough. Your point is proven, your power acknowledged…”_
> 
> _Talon screamed as a rush of pain surged into his mind and was followed by a deep, jarring chill. Had he a body within his mind, it would have collapsed. He fought to maintain control, summoning tongues of flame to vainly fight off the cold and the pain, and each burst of fire was snuffed out by the increasing gale force winds summoned by his intruders._
> 
> _And then he heard it in the wind; not the roar of rushing air, but the melody of a soothing song. A song that made his eyelids feel heavy and brought the weight of his actions to bear on his brain. “It’s time to chill out, okay?”_
> 
> _For a brief moment the burnt forest flickered, a flash of fire illuminating the devastated trees. But it died quickly under the relentless calming persuasion of the Song of Tranquility, and Talon blacked out when the last ember went dark._

“What have I done…” Talon murmured, before his knees gave out and he fell, collapsing into a cloud of ash. 

Alia stopped singing when Talon fell, startled by his collapse. _Go to him, we will maintain the Song on his heart,_ the unicorn told her, and Alia complied by rushing to Talon’s side.

“Talon, are you alright?” She asked, kneeling beside him. He was lying on his side, hair splayed around him and eyes closed in apparently peaceful slumber. She reached out to touch his neck, checking for a pulse. _Still beating, thank the Raven._

“Talon?” Alia tried to rouse him again, this time prompting a groan. Hazel eyes opened slowly to survey his surroundings. The central tree was the only thing still alight, casting firelight throughout the sanctuary, but the other fires around them died when Talon had blacked out. The ground was once again dry ash; all moisture from Alia’s tempest had dried out in the heated duel between himself and Falmea. That ash wrapped around Talon’s hand as he grabbed at the ground, reaching for a sturdy frame of reference.

Then his mind exploded as pain seared through his body, washing all thought from his head and sending him back towards the ground. Alia caught him and cradled him to her lap, but the action only made him scream in more pain. Alia whispered softly, the sound of her voice bringing the simplest of pain-easing magic into Talon’s body. When it took effect he finally opened his eyes again. They were glistening with tears as he surveyed once more his surroundings.

“What have… I done?” He whispered again, and Alia could tell from his tone that the rage was gone. His mind was calmed now, and they could recover in peace.

“Finally,” Professor Falmea commented, having floated over to them during Talon’s collapse. “I was beginning to worry he had become a 3rd degree Pyromaniac, who would not stop until the flames consumed him.”

“He may well have,” Alia commented, “the unicorn suggested he would fight to the death.”

“Let us count our blessings, then,” Falmea commented, “that you possessed a calming spell.” Both women chuckled in a mirthless chorus.

An explosive crack broke the relaxed, peaceful ambience of the sanctuary before any of them could get used to it. Rowan’s barrier prison had been a dome of smog; now it was the center of a growing cloud of blackness. A pillar of condensed smog shot out of the center of the cloud, disappearing into the night sky.

A minute later the jet of smoke came crashing down in the middle of Talon’s front lawn, radiating outward in rolling clouds. A dark figure wreathed in shadows rose up, eyes glowing bright emerald.


	13. Death’s Angel

Rowan had no idea what was going on outside of her dome; she had no awareness of Falmea’s successful attacks on Talon or her dismissal of the ring of fire, nor was she aware of Alia’s victory over the Pyromancer’s rage. All she knew was her own emotions.

As she threw her spells at her cage, she poured those emotions into each blast of Death magic. Her fear strengthened her magic, and right now she had much to fear. She feared for her own personal safety, with the flame ring surrounding her. She feared for the safety of her friends and family, left alone with that lunatic. She feared for Kane’s soul, because she truly did not know what fate he faced in the afterlife.

And she was furious at the suffering Talon was putting her through: forcing her to watch as he hurt the ones she loved, threatening to incinerate her mortal form, using that threat to weaken a man she had feelings for to prove a point, leaving her helpless as she watched that man die. All her anger wrapped itself around her fears and shoved them into her spells, giving her magic greater fuel.

But it wasn’t enough, and Rowan knew it when she heard some cracks, but not many; but she couldn’t stop herself. She carried on, flinging ice and shadows at the dome erratically. She felt that she needed more power and wondered how to get that power when trapped in here. And then she remembered Talon’s words describing how he had gotten so powerful. He had stopped fearing the power within him and embraced it. So she paused her efforts and focused inward.

Rowan’s inner power was not the mighty soulfire of Pyromancy, however. Rowan was undead; the most complete and perfected undeath ever known to wizard-kind, appearing alive yet undeniably unliving. The power within her, that she reached for and embraced at that moment, was the power of Death itself.

While it was true that Necromancers manipulated the energies of Death in their spells, most taught Necromantic spells focused on either manipulation of emotions into your spells, or the manipulation of Death’s energy into a physical receptacle using your spells. Rowan took it a step further, and brought the very energy that animated her into her spells to strengthen them. She poured her very being into every single strike. It was method of spellcasting never attempted by a mortal Necromancer, as they had no inner core of Necromantic energy, and the results were therefore unknowable; had she been of a clearer mind, she may have never done it.

But she had, and the result now stood in the middle of Talon’s front lawn, cloaked in shadows. Those shadows began to thin, revealing the form within them.

It was Rowan, and yet it most definitely wasn’t Rowan, either. Her robes were covered by the shadows now, which condensed around her like a wool cloak. Streaks of shadow danced around her, rippling over her body. Whenever they passed over her face, her beautiful tanned flesh was replaced with the pale ivory of bone, only to be flesh once more after the dark energy’s passing. Her eyes, however, never changed; skull or flesh, those glowing emerald eyes remained an eyeball in an otherwise empty socket.

From her back a pair of raven black wings had grown; large and beautiful, and yet at the same time, intimidating and foreboding. Adding to the intimidation was her staff, Terminus. Shadows were gathering around the staff, pulled into the skull by an unseen force. The skull’s mouth opened and an ebony blade grew out of it, turning the staff into a grisly scythe.

The most intimidating aspect of all, however, was Rowan’s eyes. That unnatural green glow burned with fury and sorrow and vengeance, and ignored everyone else, staring right at the prone Talon.

Rowan had become an angel of death, and it was time for justice to be served. She moved towards Talon slowly, the clouds of smoke surrounding her moving in tandem, making it hard to tell if she was walking or floating. On her way to Talon she passed over a trail of grass and flowers left by the unicorn; they shriveled, died, and disintegrated at her passing.

Alia set Talon down and approached Rowan halfway, stopping her progress to Talon with a stern gaze.

“I know what you’re thinking, and I won’t let you do it,” Alia declared. Rowan looked at her sister, feeling her fear. Without a word, she raised her left hand to Alia’s throat and lifted her off the ground. Alia grabbed at her sister’s fingers and wrist, kicking out to no avail. A flicker of shadow passed over Rowan’s hand, turning it to boney claws. Rowan had always been the strongest of the three sisters, due to her undeath, but right now Alia felt that she was stronger than ever.

“Stay out of my way,” Rowan commanded, her voice shifting between normal and echoing depending on the state of her mouth when she spoke a word. With cold indifference she threw Alia aside, the Diviner flying some distance before landing harshly.

“Rowan, revenge is never the answer,” Falmea began, but the creature that was Rowan paid her words no heed, instead waving a hand at her. The Professor was thrown back forcefully by a gust of dark energy, landing in the now dry and dusty pond.

Talon had not moved at all, still laying one the ground, ombre hair splayed out around his head. He was laid out like a festival roast, ready to be quartered and served. He knew Rowan’s retribution was coming. He was prepared to face the consequences of his inexcusable actions. His lucidity brought with it ruinous guilt, his eyes filled with as much psychological pain as physical pain.

“You killed Kane,” Rowan declared, her voice devoid of any emotion. There was only the cold darkness of death in her words. “Now you will join him!”

Rowan pulled back her scythe, preparing to harvest his despicable soul. There was a small pop as a small dragon appeared above Talon. It was Dakota, but he was once more a blue dragon with orange wings, a change from when Alia had seen him. Dakota growled and hovered over Talon, remaining between him and Rowan.

“Don’t defend me Dakota, I deserve this,” Talon ordered as he closed his eyes, but Dakota wouldn’t listen, snorting fire at Rowan.

Rowan made no recognizable response, sweeping her scythe forward with the unnerving calm of an executioner. Dakota’s body was sucked into the shadows surrounding Rowan before the two halves could even touch the ground. Rowan’s face was cold and heartless as she brought the scythe back for another swing.

“He’s not dead, Rowan!” Miguel shouted behind her, and Rowan turned her head towards him, emitting a low ‘huh’ sort of rumble. Miguel was kneeling next to Kane, who was sitting upright now as the Sorcerer’s healing spell finished what the unicorn began. Kane rubbed his forehead and nose, which felt tender from his fall.

“But I watched-” Rowan began, but Kane cut her off.

“He tricked you, Rowan,” the Conjurer declared, picking Talon’s athame up off the ground beside him. There was a line of crimson on the blade’s edge. “The only blood on this blade is his, from when he ran his finger over the edge. His healing spell healed the cut so you never saw that.” Kane dropped the knife as if it was hazardous waste, slinging one arm over Miguel’s shoulder. “I think I can get up now,” he mumbled to his comrade, and together they stood.

Rowan’s face became distorted with confusion and frustration. Within her mind, she heard a cold voice declare that Talon should die for such a transgression, but she knew that voice was not her own. It was the voice of Death itself, she reasoned, invited into her mind when she accessed the power of undeath within her.

She must have merged herself with Death, and now there was an internal battle waging. The cold voice cried out for blood and justice, but Rowan felt it was no longer justified. If he had not killed Kane, did he still deserve to die for acting it out?

The anger within her said yes.

But the human soul gazed upon Talon’s prone form and felt pity for him. Right now, Rowan knew his struggle as she fought with herself for control. Had Talon not spent the better part of a month in a similar state?

But there did need to be a punishment for the not-so-illusionary ring of incineration he had put her through, and for the torture of the night’s activities. He had to answer for that.

“I accept the consequences,” Talon declared softly, looking sideways up at Rowan. “Just get on with it.”

Rowan frowned, the shadowy streaks falling away from her face to leave it whole and fleshy once more. Her eyes continued to glow an eerie emerald, but there was a decidedly betrayed look in them. She could feel his emotions when she reached out with her mind; guilt and loathing were far more dominate now than the pride and passion they had seen all night. _He wants to die, doesn’t he?_ She thought. _Well, then it is most definitely not a suitable punishment_. She dropped her scythe on the ground and reached to pick up Talon by his shirt with both hands. One of those hands became encased in ice just as the scythe hit the ground and reverted back into the Terminus staff. That hand let go of Talon and drew back across her chest, flying forward into a brutal backslap. Her other hand let go simultaneously, leaving him hovering for but a moment.

The resulting strength of the back-handed slap shattered the ice, the shards cutting into Talon’s face as he was sent spinning, landing in a haphazard sprawl on the ground. It happened in the span of a second, giving no one time to react. Miguel rushed over to him after he had landed and placed his fingers on Talon’s neck to check his friend’s pulse.

“He’s still alive,” Miguel exclaimed. The Sorcerer spun towards Rowan and drew his saber on her. The point was not steady, though she did respect how little it wavered. She had terrified him. “And I intend to keep it that way, you hear me?!” Rowan nodded stiffly.

“Rowan…” Tasha’s voice piqued up behind her, and the Necromancer turned to her sister. “Perhaps you should go home for a bit, maybe relax and try to calm down?” Her voice was shuddery, bordering on stammering; she was terrified of this form of her sister too, a side of Rowan she had never seen before.

“I agree,” Alia stated as she rose from her final resting place. She had skid several feet along the ground when Rowan had thrown her and had ash in places she would hate dealing with later. “We’ve had enough irrational behavior for one night, I think. Miguel, we’ll be taking Talon to my place for healing. I suggest everyone come with us, since the unicorn will happily stay around to help with recovery.” Alia approached the group now congregating around the former couple and looked harshly at Rowan.

“You are not allowed in, though, until you’ve calmed down,” Alia told her flatly. There was a no-negotiations air about her. “Can’t have you randomly killing.”

Rowan knew her sisters were right, and she hated that fact. Closing her eyes, she nodded before shrinking into her shadows and disappearing.

“A part of me wouldn’t have minded if she had killed him,” Kane said, getting looks of disgust from everyone else. “What? Considering what he just put us through, I think it fitting! Need I remind you he faked my death?”

“How about we find out **why** all this happened before we pass judgment, amigo?” Miguel proposed, and the girls agreed with him. “There must be some reason his behavior has gotten so violent besides the obvious.”

“I can help with that,” Professor Falmea proclaimed as she wiped mud off her dress. “Honestly I’m surprised that, as his closest friends, you don’t already know what I am about to tell you.” Alia put up a hand to stop her, motioning with the other at the unmoving form of Talon.

“Come with us, Professor,” Alia told her, “I want to make sure Talon is stable before we have story time.”


	14. The Ashes Settle

While everyone else went to Alia’s island getaway for recuperation, Kane teleported straight to Rowan’s haunted mansion to check on her. The massive iron gates to the cemetery surrounding the mansion were ajar upon his arrival, and it didn’t take long to find Rowan amongst the graves that filled her lawn.

Rowan was sitting on a gravestone, her cloak of shadows writhing around her. The seductively black raven wings were folded in a deceptively angelic manner, shimmering in the moonlight, and her staff turned scythe was in her hand, propped on the ground as she looked at the grave below her. Kane wasn’t sure how, but the scythe blade seemed smaller.

“Rowan?” Kane’s hard, strong voice cut through the silence of the cemetery, prompting the angel of death to turn her head. Her long black hair was dancing around her head in waves as if brushed by a breeze, its motion matching the shadows shifting around her. He noticed the ferocity of her eyes was gone, the emerald glow diminished. “Are you alright?”

Rowan shook her head, a motion that invited shadows to sweep across her face and peel away the flesh to reveal ivory bone. For a brief moment, Kane was scared. In this state, Rowan looked like an incarnation of the one thing Kane feared most: Death. But he swallowed his fear and moved in front of her, sitting his burn-scarred self on a gravestone.

“What happened out there Rowan?” He asked softly, looking her in the face even though half of it was beautiful woman, and half was hideous skull. “What caused this?” Rowan remained silent for a time, looking between the ground and Kane.

“I wanted to kill Talon, for what he did to me,” Rowan finally spoke, her voice shifting between normal and ethereal. “Wanted to send him after you into the underworld. And I almost did…”

“He kinda deserves it if you ask me,” Kane shrugged, mostly trying to make Rowan stop putting herself down so much for her desire.

“Don’t side with him,” Rowan hissed, the blade of her scythe growing longer. Kane raised an eyebrow.

“Who? Talon? Did he think he deserved it?” Kane inquired, confused. Rowan shook her head, her dark wings fluttering.

“Not what I meant, although he was willing to accept death. I meant Death, himself. Don’t side with him, please…” Rowan told him. Kane watched as the scythe blade shrank again. It suddenly dawned on Kane, and his violet eyes widened in fear.

“You didn’t…” His voice was whispery and filled with doubt, but Rowan heard it well, shaking her head to acknowledge his fears. _She did!_

“I needed to be stronger to get out of that prison,” Rowan explained, looking down at the dirt. “So, like Talon, I fully connected with the power within me. That power just so happens to be the animating energies of Death itself, and when I drew from those energies for my spells, I think drew Death into me as well.” Rowan looked away from the grave and Kane, shutting her eyes. “He was in control when I killed Dakota, and his voice was in my head, whispering to kill Talon…” A single tear of watery ectoplasm rolled down her face.

Kane knew what she was referring to, and that’s why he was scared; Rowan had drawn the deity of Death into herself. The incarnation of Death magic went by many names: the Grim Reaper, Hades, Satan, Lucifer, Angel of Death, Fallen One, The Final Visitor, and the list went on. But there was always one definitive, iconic characteristic to him, no matter the form or name; when he called upon you, you never breathed again.

As Kane knew from his studies, Death was one of the Spiritual deities of magic, a group of lesser known cousins to the Titans. Just as the Elements had their Titan originators, the Spirit schools had originating deities. But while the Titans created the land, sea, and sky, the Spirits’ role in creation was to **define** that which was already created. Chaos, order, chronology, imagination, beginnings, finality; these were concepts brought about by the Spirit deities.

The sister deity and opposition of Death was Nature, first-born of Bartleby and bringer of Life. Myth magic was brought about by a deity that Kane truly knew little about, mostly because it never appeared the same way. Myth’s deity had no name and no form; any records that hinted to its presence never matched in descriptions of appearance, name, or even personality. Balance was the only form of magic Kane knew of with no originating or ruling deity. Being an amalgam of all magical forms, and a form of magic reportedly created by Wizards, it was believed to have no diety to rule over it.

Kane’s least favorite of the deities he studied was Death, partly because it was the god of the one thing he worked hardest to avoid. And yet here he was, fighting with Rowan inside her mind.

“I am touched by you doing this out of revenge for me, but you didn’t have to,” Kane told her, “even if he actually killed me.”

“You didn’t have to give me the amulet,” Rowan shot back, her left hand reaching for the bauble around her neck. “And yet, here it is.” Kane looked at the amulet, and Rowan glanced at it briefly, a curiosity crossing her features. “Did you actually do that out of love for me?” She asked softly as she passed it across the grave to him. “I mean, it wasn’t really necessary, but you did it anyways. Does that mean-”

“We’re not talking about that right now,” Kane shot down the question quickly, getting up from his seat. He was visibly uncomfortable, which was a new look for Kane; but understandable given the circumstances. He did not take the amulet from her, instead wrapping her fingers back around it and pushing her hand towards her. “Keep it, in case he tries again.”

“Alright,” Rowan sighed, looking at the ground again. Right now she was in no mood to press the matter, no matter how badly she yearned to hear his answer. “Please check on Talon for me… make sure he’s okay.”

“I think you care way too much about a man who tried to give you a funeral pyre,” Kane jabbed, “but very well, I will.” With that he teleported away to Alia’s, leaving Rowan alone in her dismal graveyard, still holding the only gift of possibly romantic significance he had ever given her. 

* * *

Alia’s home wasn’t very big, especially compared to her sisters’ and friends’. But that was just fine for Alia; she didn’t need a big mansion home to be happy. Her little tropical shack suited her just fine, nestled in the heart of a palm-covered island surrounded by sea. There was always a brisk, salty sea breeze, never a dreary day –Alia loved the rain as much as she did the sun, perhaps even more- and it was never, ever quiet. There was always a chorus of tropical birds or insects buzzing about, or the cascade of the waterfall beside her shack to fill the silence, just how Alia liked it; she found silence suffocating. 

The small size of her tropical paradise was a slight problem, however, when she had all the gang sans Rowan and Talon recuperating in her dining/entry hall. Her main hall was an explosion of blue with underwater wallpaper and a ring rug with an ocean pattern that surrounded a central clay pit. That pit had a seashell table and clam-chairs, where Miguel, Tasha, and Kane currently sat.

Somehow, inexplicably, Alia’s pet firecat, Samson, had thought that joining Kane on his lap was a good idea. After the third time dropping the cat off his lap, Kane gave up. It wasn’t until a ghostly apparition appeared, moving towards Kane’s lap and scaring off the firecat, that he had any success keeping it off. The apparition finalized its form, revealing itself to be Lord Tyson, his ghost dragon. The spectral reptile curled up on his lap where Samson once lay, and Kane lightly stroked the ethereal beast.

“Hello Tyson,” Kane said idly as the others watched, and the dragon rumbled with pleasure. Kane was the only one the dragon allowed to call him Tyson, or even Ty. Everyone else had to add the title of Lord to get as much as a tail flick of his attention.

Falmea stood beside the table, watching the hallway that led to Alia’s other rooms, especially her bedroom. It had been at least twenty minutes since Miguel had helped her bring Talon into her bedroom for healing. By now, the unicorn, which also stood in Alia’s dining hall, had fully healed everyone.

“I am still of the opinion that it would be better to bring him to Moolinda,” Falmea commented, folding her arms.

“I am actually inclined to agree with Alia on this one,” Miguel declared. “I believe Talon would prefer this stay within el grupo. When he wakes, he will be undoubtedly regretful of his actions.”

“Nothing against Moolinda,” Tasha added quickly when the professor looked insulted by Miguel’s statements. “But getting Talon to her would risk the rumor mill catching wind, see? We were just beginning to enjoy seeing our names not in the papers regularly.” 

Before Falmea could respond, Alia walked into the room, smiling. Until she saw Tyson on Kane’s lap.

“Oh, now you show up?” She criticized the ghostly pet, which ignored her. “I ask you to go find Kane, and what do you do? You find him after everything is said and done? Useless.” Tyson growled and looked at Alia, snorting ethereal fire. Kane glared at her.

“He was being a good boy and following instructions,” Kane retorted. “I’d specifically told him to not look for me, even if others asked him to, so lay off.” Alia harrumphed and folded her arms, turning away from the two of them.

“Anyways, he’s stabilized now,” Alia announced after a moment, flicking her ponytail. “He passed out again though, but at least his heart is regular and everything will keep working.” What she didn’t tell them was that Rowan had actually fractured Talon’s jaw and nearly broke his neck, and that at some point, someone had broken his leg and a few ribs as well. He was in immense pain from those injuries, and that wasn’t even counting the frostbite burns he suffered at the hands of Falmea or the cuts and bruises littering his body.

The unicorn had been right. He would have fought until he died; she had just examined the proof of that statement. And knowing this made Alia wonder all the more why he would put his life on the line like that.

“Well, then, Professor Falmea,” Miguel turned from Alia to look at the Fire Professor. “Would you care to make good on your offer of información?”

“Why yes, Professor,” Kane mocked Miguel’s tone, putting his feet up on Alia’s table. “Regale us with your tale of how he’s innocent and misunderstood and deserves our kindness and mercy.” Kane rolled his eyes. Alia frowned at his behavior; it was both a jeer at her brother-in-law and an insult towards the man who was currently her patient. Alia calmly walked up to him and punched him, knocking him over backward.

“Feet off the table!” She ordered as a cover up for her real reason for punching him. Kane got back up, holding his newly minted black eye. He looked furious, but she held up an index finger at him.

“Touch me, boy,” she declared with a stern tone, “and you’re on the floor again.” Kane growled, picking his chair up and righting it. He had been through enough pain for one night to fight back. Alia sat down in it once it was positioned, much to Kane’s chagrin. “Thank you.” Kane decided to just stand there and fume while Miguel chuckled, shaking his head. Tasha had her mouth covered with one hand.

“He doesn’t deserve your mercy, Darksword,” Falmea responded, amused by Alia’s strong-arm antics. “He does, however, deserve your caution.”

“Why?” They all asked in unison.

“Because if he truly applied himself, Talon has the potential to become the greatest Pyromancer in the Spiral, being the child of two of the strongest Pyromancers I know,” Falmea explained, and while Kane seemed unimpressed, the other three were interested. Seeing that she might have to explain more, she continued. “Within every living thing is a flame, an inner fire that is the fuel of emotion. Pyromancers can access the energies of this inner flame at will, and it is the source of our power. Some are better than others at harnessing their emotions, and therefore the fire within. Some, like Talon, are so in tune with their heart-fire that Pyromancy is less an art and more a feeling, a natural extension of their emotional state. The reason Talon was so powerful tonight was that he connected fully with this emotional fire, allowing it to consume, control, and overwhelm him.”

“So that wasn’t actually Talon we were fighting, was it?” Miguel asked, curious as to whether or not this had been the situation for the past month.

“Technically, yes it was, but you were fighting his emotions, not himself personally. What we saw tonight was unbridled passion in its purest form; Pyromania,” the professor answered, and Tasha whistled.

“He’s even worse than you, Alia… You just zap things. He burns the house down,” Tasha commented, and while there was a slight hint of teasing in her voice, Alia got the feeling that Tasha wasn’t entirely joking with that statement.

“Professor,” Alia began, shrugging off her sister’s comment. “You mentioned when we got to the battle that he was ‘just like his father’. Am I correct in assuming his father has done the same thing he did tonight?” Alia finally asked the question that had nagged her since Falmea had made that statement.

“More times than I care to remember,” Falmea admitted, sounding very disgusted at the memory. “While we were in school together, there was the constant threat of a flash fire burning the building to the ground.” The others looked awed, but Kane smirked.

“How is Ravenwood still standing, then?” Kane asked.

“Through careful manipulation of the man,” Falmea explained. “Talon’s father was even worse than he is. That man would explode (literally and figuratively) at the smallest provocation, going into rages like the one we saw tonight over something even as simple as the school cafeteria not having fries that day. My sister was the only person in the school who could calm him back then; he had always had a soft spot for her. I personally don’t know what she saw in him, but…” Falmea rolled her eyes.

“You don’t like your brother-in-law, do you?” Alia smirked, glancing at Miguel, who looked suddenly worried.

“Don’t get me wrong, his father is an exceptional, incredibly powerful wizard. Extremely in touch with his inner fire.” Falmea proclaimed with some respect in her voice. “But he was also for quite some time the worst second-degree Pyromaniac the Spiral had ever known, even before being admitted to Ravenwood.” Falmea added.

“What made him change?” Miguel asked, noticing Falmea’s use of the past tense.

“Ice magic,” Falmea wrinkled her nose as she said it, and Tasha returned the expression. “I know,” she joined Tasha in shaking her head, “he’s not very good at it either, mostly only good with the defensive spells. But it was the philosophy, not the spells themselves, of Thaumaturgy that helped him control himself and make a recovery.”

“How?” Kane asked quickly. It just didn’t make sense why a Pyromancer would even bother to learn Thaumaturgy, let alone gain something from it; they were completely opposite magical philosophies and energies. Tasha suddenly burst with understanding and was eager to explain. Falmea gave her the floor, and Tasha turned to face the others.

“Emotionally, Thaumaturgy focuses on patience, resilience, and calmness. We strive to be cool, calm, and collected no matter the situation,” Tasha explained. “So, it would have helped his father keep his cool, even if they served potato chips.” They nodded, finally understanding at least a little how that would have worked.

“But Talon minored in Life magic, not Ice,” Alia commented, “So is Life to him like Ice to his father?” She turned to Falmea.

“So far as we know, yes,” Falmea answered. “From an early age Talon showed a love of nature and animals. So naturally we encouraged him to seek out Life magic when he started attending Ravenwood. This is the first time he has ever had an episode that I know of, thank Bartleby.”

“Well that’s good to know,” Kane muttered with faked enthusiasm. Everyone ignored him.

“But that doesn’t mean he won’t have another episode for a few years,” Falmea cautioned. “It is entirely possible that this first episode could be the beginning of a very difficult emotional time for him. If not managed through careful relations and ample time around nature, he could become like his father.” Everyone cringed, and Kane actually shuddered slightly.

“But why is **he** so connected to his emotions that he could have this problem?” Alia inquired. “I have been with many Pyromancers and pissed off several of them with nowhere near this kind of result.”

“That is un muy bueno point,” Miguel stated. “What makes Talon, and his padre, different from those other Pyromancers?”

“Talon is one of the few who can claim to be a direct descendent of the Pyromancers of Dragonspyre,” Falmea explained, “As both his parents were born from Dragonspyre Academy trained Pyromancers. My mother was a force that rivaled the Draconians, and my sister is every bit as strong as her.” 

“I thought the wizards of Dragonspyre were all killed by the Titan’s army,” Kane commented, beginning to show signs of being legitimately impressed. Falmea shook her head.

“Not all wizards agreed with the summoning, and when they discovered it was to happen, those wise enough fled the world with the Dragonspyre Key, along with handfuls of civilians. Unfortunately the Army struck in the middle of the escape preparations, so only a few hundred people could be saved. I was only a year old at the time, so I remember none of it, but I have read many of the memoires.” Falmea’s face darkened. “Many more wizards and civilians would have escaped had they began preparations sooner.” 

“And you gave the key to the Emperor of Mooshu for safe keeping,” Alia mentioned. Falmea nodded again.

“At that time, Dragonspyre’s greatest ally was Mooshu, and so my elders entrusted the Emperor with the Key.” Falmea smiled at them now. “Until you opened the Spiral Door again, my people were too afraid to ever return. When you defeated Malistaire and the Dragon Titan’s army, however, that changed.”

“The Dragonspyre Reconstruction Project,” Kane stated, and the other three looked at him. “Didn’t you hear about it in the news? Seriously, read a newspaper sometime. About two months after we had defeated Malistaire and reclaimed Dragonspyre, Headmaster Ambrose and the Emperor of Mooshu gave permission and funding to begin rebuilding the place to Dragonspyre refugees and their descendants; called it the Dragonspyre Reconstruction Project, D.R.P.”

“Oh, well that’s cool!” Alia grinned.

“I hated that place,” Tasha balked.

“It would probably interest you to learn then, Darksword, that my sister was chosen to lead the revival,” Falmea proudly declared. Kane’s attention was riveted.

“You mean… Talon’s mother is Anita Falmea Skullstar, the headmistress of the revived Dragonspyre Academy?” Falmea nodded, and Kane folded his arms and smirked. “Now that’s something.”

“She just said awhile back that his parents were some of the strongest Pyromancers ever,” Tasha commented with an annoyed tone, “and only **now** you are impressed?”

“There’s a difference between claiming strength and applying it, Tasha,” Kane shot back. “And besides, there is something you all are missing here.”

“What?”

“As headmistress and overseer of the rebuilding of Dragonsypre and its Academy,” Kane explained, “Talon’s mother would be a strong contender for the throne of Dragonspyre, when the world is rebuilt enough to sustain its own government and economy. I doubt there would be many who would contest her right to rule when she leads the reconstruction, and the entire royal family was slaughtered in the invasion.”

“Oh,” Tasha replied.

“Wow,” Alia whistled. “So… basically, I’m taking care of a man who might quite possibly be a prince? Well, that will make mom happy,” Alia chuckled, and Tasha laughed too. “What about his father?”

“He has been managing the rebuilding and restocking of the Atheneum since the reconstruction began,” Falmea answered, and Kane grinned. “His family did not hold to their Dragonspyrian traditions as closely as my own, so he wasn’t as suitable a candidate for Headmaster. That, and while his temperament has improved over the years, especially since fathering my nephew, no one wanted to risk him lapsing again during the painstaking task of reconstruction.”

“Leading reconstruction could potentially set him off?” Alia asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Like I said,” Falmea replied. “The man used to go off because of a lack of fries for lunch. The rigorous task of restocking and rejuvenating the Atheneum is stressing enough for any man. Leading the rebuilding of a whole civilization would undoubtedly take its toll on his patience at some point, and he would snap again. Just like Talon eventually snapped because something became too much for him to handle,” Falmea explained, and everyone glanced at Kane. He folded his arms and glared back at each of them.

“I will not pretend to know what set Talon off this time,” Falmea continued, “and I personally don’t care. Just make sure it does not happen again.” She looked rather sternly at Kane for this statement. She had a feeling from Kane’s behavior, and how everyone else was treating him, that he was somehow to blame. Kane threw his arms up, muttering about everyone criminalizing him. The others glared at him for the comment and silence fell across the room.

The silence was broken by a soft reminder of the time of day and how little sleep they had gotten of late. The reminder was Tasha yawning and stretching, causing her sister and husband to yawn as well, though Miguel fought it back as best he could.

“I think it is time we all rest from our grueling evening,” Falmea declared as she watched the young wizards. “May you rest well. And thank you, Alia, for your efforts in helping me quell him. The night may have ended differently otherwise.”

“You’re welcome,” Alia replied. “And please keep the other professors out of the loop. We want to keep this out of the rumor mill as long as possible.”

“You have my word,” Falmea promised, before disappearing in a flash of flames. 

“Now, time to rest,” Alia said, standing and stretching. Her body protested, having enjoyed being seated after a harsh battle. Her body simply didn’t want to move one more inch. “We should meet up for dinner here later and discuss our next move concerning Talon.”

“Dinner?” Kane snorted. “No one is seeing a hair from my head until twenty four hours from now, at least.” Alia put a hand on her hip, then reached up and grabbed a strand of his blond hair, plucking it. Avoiding Kane’s swats, she placed the strand on the table.

“There.”

“You know what I meant, Alia,” Kane growled.

“I’m sure she did, and I’m sure we could all use some sleep,” Tasha interrupted, grabbing Miguel’s hand. “So how about we all go home now. Bye.”

When everyone had finally left, Alia wandered into her bedroom, looking at the sleeping form of Talon. She had pulled the sheets up to his neck to keep him warm, and he looked surprisingly peaceful as he lay there, unconsciously sleeping.

“You’re lucky I’m used to sleeping beside Rowan, and don’t mind a cold floor,” Alia muttered, grabbing a spare blanket and laying it on the floor beside her bed. Slowly she peeled off her uniform and armor plates, ash falling on the floor as she did so. She’d have to clean that up later, but right now she was too tired to do so.

 _And to think I started out this evening horny… now I’m anything but._ Alia stretched after putting on her purple shirt and green pants that she used as pajamas, before grabbing another blanket to cover her and lying down.

“Goodnight Talon.”


End file.
